Dreamer - Chapter 3
Credits: Everything: Xuan
Update: every Saturday or Sunday
In just a few short days, the skies over the capital had changed. The Emperor had passed away; the Empress and Crown Prince, accused of grievous crimes, were stripped of their titles. The Second Prince temporarily took charge of state affairs.
By right, the regicide and his accomplices should have been executed immediately. Yet the Second Prince, soft-hearted as he was, could not bring himself to do it. Remembering the bond he shared with his elder brother over the years, he refrained from making a final decision.
The Second Prince’s grandfather wished to strike while the iron was hot—to eradicate the dethroned Crown Prince and be done with it. But on this matter alone, the Second Prince stood firm, fiercely protecting the mother and son’s lives, allowing only for them to be imprisoned separately.
The former Empress, stricken with grief, fell gravely ill and was confined to the Cold Palace.
The deposed Crown Prince, meanwhile, was imprisoned in his former chambers, heavily guarded by soldiers.
He had once been highly skilled in martial arts, but to prevent any attempt at rebellion, he had been fed a drug that sealed his inner strength, and his wrists and ankles were bound with iron chains.
The younger princes and princesses all worried for him, yet none dared to visit, fearful of the Second Prince’s authority.
When the Second Prince came to see him again, it was deep into the night. The Crown Prince, drowsy and weak from the drug, had lost all his former spirit—his once-handsome face was now pale and weary, with a rough stubble shadowing his jaw.
The Second Prince dismissed the guards, lit a dim lamp, and sat quietly at the bedside, head lowered.
Looking at the man’s bound hands and feet, at his face and furrowed brows, the Second Prince couldn’t help but recall how proud, radiant, and unrestrained his elder brother had once been.
A sharp pain cut through his chest, like death by a thousand blades—part shame, part self-loathing.
The feelings he harbored for this man had now become unspeakable, things that could neither be said nor deserved to be said.
When his elder brother woke, who knew what kind of gaze he would meet him with? Perhaps the only time they could ever share such quiet closeness… was this moment. There would be no next time.
After sitting there for a long while, he seemed as though possessed by a spell. Slowly, he lowered his head. He leaned closer to that face—studying it at a distance he had never dared before—from the brows, to the bridge of the nose, until finally… his gaze fell upon those beautifully shaped lips.
The Crown Prince had already passed the age of eighteen, yet he had never taken a consort. In the past, no matter how many outstanding young women showed affection toward him, he never accepted any of them.
Perhaps this was his first kiss.
The Second Prince lowered his eyes and kissed him softly. The anguish of love surged to his heart and rose to his throat, churning through every part of his body with his blood. Except at their touching lips, where he felt a faint, shameless sweetness.
Whenever their father scolded the Second Prince for being lazy, all he had to do was hide beside his elder brother to escape punishment. When their grandfather tried to introduce him to a minister’s daughter or a general’s second young lady, he always refused to meet them.
And it was always the Crown Prince who made excuses for him, saying they needed to study together, allowing him to stay in the prince’s chamber and nap away his duties.
Perhaps this was the only time in recent days when he could cast aside the crushing weight of everything— his mind went blank, and his vision swam.
But then, he heard a low laugh, coming from his brother’s throat.
The Crown Prince was awake. His eyes were open, watching him.
The Second Prince’s body trembled violently. For a fleeting moment, he thought thunder had struck outside the palace, but when he turned in panic, the courtyard was still and silent.
The thunder was only within his own heart.
After all that had happened, his once-gentle smile was gone. His lips curved upward, his eyes slightly bent, but there was no warmth behind that smile.
The Second Prince couldn’t bear to look at him, nor could he explain himself. His breath trembled as he turned his gaze away.
The Crown Prince suddenly asked, “How is my mother?”
The Second Prince quietly replied, “I’ve already sent the imperial physicians to tend to her.”
The Crown Prince said, “Could you let me see her once?”
The Second Prince silently shook his head.
The Crown Prince gave a faint laugh. “You’ve already won completely. I’ll likely be dead soon. Can’t I at least see my mother before I die? Isn’t that far too cruel?”
The Second Prince wanted to say, "I won’t let you die." But the words wouldn’t leave his lips.
All of a sudden, the Crown Prince sat up— so close their faces almost brushed. He leaned in, his breath grazing the Second Prince’s ear as he murmured, “Second Brother, can we set a condition?”
“I’ll do anything,” he whispered softly. “I only wish to see my mother once more. This is the last wish of a dying man…Can’t you grant me this one mercy?”
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