A Conflicted Heart.

Yi Cheng felt his imperial mother's gentle gaze. "You look weary, my son. Did you not sleep well?" she asked with concern.

He lied, "I slept enough." He had spent the night tossing and turning in his bed, tormented by the truth, the guilt that weighed on him like a stone. Before dawn, he had risen and walked to his window, where he had stood in silence, watching the sun rise over the courtyard walls. The maid sent by his imperial mother to summon him had found him there.

"Your uncle told me what happened," his imperial mother said. "Xue'er is young and naive. You should not let her actions trouble your heart so."

He looked at her in disbelief. "Young and naive. Is that how you excuse what she did?" His voice was bitter as gall.

She gave him a hard look. "She was angry. You ignored her when she was wounded, to chase after that," she spat the name, "Liu Fen."

He felt his anger rise, his hands curling into fists. "So she decided to hurt her. To send those brutes to…" He could not say the word, the image of A'fen trembling, sobbing seared into his mind.

His mother's voice grew softer, almost pleading. "She acted in the heat of the moment." She reached for his hand. "She is your cousin, your kin. You share the same blood. If this gets out, if our foes at court hear of this, they will not just come after her. Your uncle, you, me, all of us will be implicated."

Yi Cheng felt a cold knot in his stomach. His mother was asking him to forget, to forgive, to shield his own. He loved her, he cared for her, he did. He would not want to see her harmed. But he had promised A'fen; he had promised her father; he had promised them justice.

What would they think of him, when they learned that the one who hurt her was his cousin, his flesh and blood? What would they think of him, if they learned that he had turned a blind eye?