Chapter 8: MEDITATION.
"The Emperor receives no one, and His meditation's duration remains uncertain," the guard informed the Prince.
Ready for confrontation, the Prince faced the guard, but the spear's cold edge pressed against his chin.
"Disgusting worm!" he spat, even as the Adviser tugged at his clothes, attempting to silence him.
"Meditation so soon?" the Adviser mused and his gaze flickered to the guard, who returned the look. "Perhaps a ruse, but for now, entry is barred."
The Prince's frustration simmered. "What if the Emperor learns of the bastard's survival? Will he reclaim Him?"
The Adviser adjusted the Prince's attire, silent, yet nodded.
"And if He does?" the Prince continued.
"It'll be discreet—a secret from the all Heavens." The Adviser answered, but the Prince was still furious.
"Without the Mirrors' Master our search falters. And I have no idea where he might be!"
The Adviser's thoughts wandered, he didn't reply.
"Could the bastard be reborn?"
"Unlikely. Dust or continuity—two paths. Either He became dust wandering in the worlds, or He remained what He initially was."
The Prince leaned in. "If He's alive, the Mirrors' Master will find him. The Emperor won't hesitate if stays unaware."
"For now, for now He won't." the Adviser said, turning away.
"And what of us?" the Prince demanded.
"Are we alone in this revelation?"
The Adviser's retort hung heavy: "Your Father calls Him son, so we should be more than careful."
The Prince froze—a word he'd never heard from his own Father's lips, unlike this brat.
But did that bother him? Quite the opposite. He had no desire to be this asshole's brother, despite his father's attempts.
"Lao Jun, how did you know he might be in the mortal world? Could others be aware too?" The Prince's voice held a hint of defiance.
The Adviser paused, eyes still on the guard.
"Except for your father, I believe no one else knows."
A fleeting smile touched the Prince's lips, extinguished by the Adviser's next words.
"And the Emperor? Does He suspect?"
"Perhaps," the Adviser replied and turned his gaze on guard again just to catch his nod.
"So, He might need a Mirrors' Master too? What an old rag!"
The Prince's outburst earned him a swift hand over his mouth.
"Careful," the Adviser warned, but the Prince struggled free.
"Leave me be!" He wiped his lips with a sleeve—the place the adviser's hand had just touched his skin. "Are you mad? Decided on loosing your hand?"
"Not at all. Your head is worth more than my hand, Your Highness. But I wish to keep it as long as possible for myself, so mind your words in the Palace, please."
Prince paused.
"Saving my life, though… I'm less certain it's worthwhile without this bastard..."
*Thx for reading.
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