The sun filtered through the heavy curtains, casting soft beams across the grand chambers as Jin Ming stood by the window, cradling the infant in his arms. His son, with one month old, slept peacefully in his arms, unaware of the complex webs of ambition that surrounded his existence.

You had given him a child, but not the one he had longed for. He had wanted a daughter, someone who would secure his place at your side, who would one day rule beside you. But instead, fate had delivered a son, a prince whose claim to the throne was fragile at best.

"You were supposed to be a girl," he muttered softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the child could hear him. He looked down at the boy, his dark eyes softening, though the frustration remained beneath the surface. "But you’re mine, all the same."

A loyal servant entered the room, bowing low as he approached. Jin Ming didn’t look at him. The servant knew his place.

"My lord," the servant said, "the Empress has returned from her journey. What should we do now?"

Jin Ming’s lips curled into a thin smile. "I will be there," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "I’m sure she’ll be eager to see her son."

The servant nodded and stepped back, retreating out of the room, leaving Jin Ming alone for a moment longer. He sighed, a breath that carried both resignation and resolve. "No matter. We’ll make it work, won’t we, my son? And I will make sure that the throne is within our reach."

The child stirred in his arms, a soft coo escaping his lips. Jin Ming smiled, though the expression was brief and cold. "Yes, you will be the one to help me claim what should be mine," he murmured, before turning toward the door.

He moved swiftly through the corridors of the palace. As he approached your chambers, the servants outside stood at attention, bowing as he passed. Jin Ming entered without hesitation. Inside, his gaze swept over the space, but it was you who held his attention.