Xijing.
Xuanguang Hall.
The Empress Dowager looked at the Young Emperor, who was sleeping behind the bright yellow curtains, his face as pale as paper, filled with the numb sickness. Palace maids were coming and going outside, but she seemed totally unaware.
She had never given birth, and when the little prince had first been brought to the palace, she had been at a loss, having no idea what to do.
At that time, she didn't like children, who were both spoiled and delicate, not right to hold or to cradle, and who weren't born of her own flesh, always creating a barrier.
Yet this little creature, who had lost his birth mother right after coming into the world, had been with her for six years, from the moment he first opened his eyes to look at her, to when he began to babble and then learned to call her "mother." Somehow, she had grown accustomed to having this child by her side...
She didn't love him that much.
She just needed this child.
That had always been her thought.