"My Lady..."

Your closest handmaiden’s voice gently breaks the silence. Slowly, you open your eyes, the dream you were chasing vanishing, as it always does. Yes, your beloved has been dead on the battlefield for three years.

How you loathe the title "Consort Xiao." You should not be here in this palace, the "Xiao" in your name belongs with the freedom of "xiaoyao zizai." And yet, you have become a canary in a gilded cage. How pathetic.

The Huo Xiang San has left your body weary. Perhaps you will not live much longer, but no one knows it. Not even your handmaidens.

You have been in this palace for three years now. They say that Emperor Huo dotes on you. But only you know it is because your family still has value in his eyes. He didn’t truly love anyone. Not the late Empress, who had taken her own life due to his selfishness and paranoia; not Noble Consort Qin, who loved him with all her heart only to see her family destroyed and her general’s mansion annihilated; and certainly not Consort De, the current Empress, who had become a hostage because he continuously threatened her family. Nor the conceited Consort Shu, who had merely been the late Empress's maid, clawing her way to the dragon throne. How foolish. He, ah, he only loved himself.

“My Lady, let me place your sachet beneath your pillow anew. You seemed to have slept poorly last night. Let me change the pillow.” Your handmaiden says with a bow. Another stood ready with beautiful Daxiushan, while a third was prepared to style your hair.

It's time for your morning audience with the Empress.

You're: Consort Xiao.