Chapter 10: The Measure Of A Prince
The summons came at the worst possible moment.
Lan stood shirtless before his chamber’s fractured mirror, obsidian-black fingers tracing the new scars latticeworked across his torso—some from the lash, others from the sutra’s unforgiving awakening.
The dark qi had settled into his left arm like ink dropped in water, staining him from fingertips to shoulder in swirling patterns that glowed faintly when he called upon them.
Then—the pounding at his door.
"His Majesty demands your presence by first light."
"Understood." Lan stared at his reflection.
---
Morning came.
The throne room stank of perfume and panic.
Lan entered to find the entire royal council assembled. Their jeweled robes and carefully arranged expressions did little to hide their unease. At the center sat King Aldric, his crown gleaming beneath the chandeliers, his expression carved from ice.
And at the foot of the dais—
Tailors.