As Kwan took his place, Jin caught the calculating look that passed between the prince and the general. Not enemies, but not allies either.
"Now," Jin said, returning to the matter at hand, "about this prisoner—"
"He's dead, Your Majesty," Minister Gao cut in. "Took his own life after the questioning—used poison hidden in is tooth."
"A little too perfect," Prince Kwan remarked. "Sounds like something a Nanjiang agent would do
Jin's eyes narrowed. "You suggest Nanjiang, not Qiushan, is responsible?"
"I suggest, brother, that we consider all possibilities. Nanjiang has much to gain from conflict between us and Qiushan."
Minister Gao shook his head. "The evidence—"
"Can be fabricated," Kwan cut him off. "You taught me that yourself, Minister."
Gao's kept his expression, but Jin detected a flicker of annoyance.
"Maybe," Jin said carefully, "let stick to the evidence at hand. Minister Gao, did any of the assassins survive—ones General Zhou didn't get a chance to question?"
An uncomfortable silence fell as every eye turned to General Zhou.
"There were no survivors, Your Majesty," Zhou replied stiffly.
"None?" Jin pressed. "Not even wounded men who might have been captured alive?"
Zhou's jaw tightened. "The threat to Your Majesty's person required decisive action. Four were captured alive, but unfortunately expired during questioning."
"All four?" Jin couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice.
"Regrettably, yes. The methods necessary to extract information quickly are not always... conducive to survival."
Jin fought to keep his expression neutral. Torture. They had tortured captives to death. In his name.
"I see," he managed. "In the future, General, I would prefer prisoners remain alive long enough to provide useful intelligence."
Zhou bowed, though Jin detected a hint of defiance in his posture. "As Your Majesty commands."
Prince Kwan studied Jin intently, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You seem... different, brother. The blow to your head must have been serious indeed."
A warning prickle ran up Jin's spine. His "brother" was suspicious already. He needed to tread carefully.
"Near-death experiences have a way of clearing things up," Jin replied smoothly. "Speaking of which, where were you during the ambush, brother? I don't remember seeing you in the imperial procession."
Kwan's expression hardened. "I was inspecting the northern garrisons, as you commanded. Had I been with you, perhaps these assassins would have found a warmer welcome."
"No doubt," Jin said, not missing the flash of pride in General Zhou's eyes.
Jin seized the opportunity. "A wise suggestion. This council will continue tomorrow. Until then, General Zhou will heighten palace security, and Minister Gao will continue his investigation."
As Jin rose from the Dragon Throne, the assembled officials bowed deeply once more. He descended the jade steps, acutely aware of Prince Kwan's burning gaze on his back.
"Walk with me, brother," Jin said without thinking, eager to explore this relationship further. "I would hear more about these northern garrisons."
Something flickered across Kwan's face—surprise, suspicion, calculation—before settling into a carefully neutral expression. "Of course, Your Majesty."
As they left the Hall of Supreme Harmony side by side, Jin felt General Zhou fall into step behind them, close enough to intervene if necessary. The general clearly didn't trust Prince Kwan alone with the emperor—which told Jin everything he needed to know about the brothers' relationship.
"You never showed interest in military matters before," Kwan remarked as they walked through a garden of carefully pruned pine trees. "Another effect of your... clarity?"
"Perhaps I've been neglectful," Jin replied. "An emperor should understand all aspects of his realm, should he not?"
Kwan studied him sideways. "Indeed. Just as a younger brother should know his place?"
There it was—the bitterness, the resentment bubbling just beneath the surface. Jin sensed he was navigating a minefield of fraternal rivalry that had festered for years.
"Your place is where you serve the empire best," Jin said carefully. "Your military expertise is an asset I've valued."
Kwan stopped walking, turning to face Jin fully. The scar on his face caught the sunlight, a red slash against golden skin.
"Who are you?" he asked softly, too quietly for General Zhou to hear.
Jin's blood turned to ice. "Your brother, of course."
"My brother," Kwan said, each word precise and measured, "has never in his life admitted to valuing anything about me. So I ask again: who sits behind my brother's eyes?"
Before Jin could formulate a response, a commotion erupted at the far end of the garden. A messenger was running toward them, face pale with urgency.
"Your Majesty!" the man called, dropping to his knees. "Urgent news from the western border!"
Jin welcomed the interruption. "Speak."
"Qiushan forces have crossed into our territory! They've seized the fortress at Eagle Pass and are advancing eastward. They fly the personal banner of Prince Yong."
General Zhou pushed forward. "How many troops?"
"Twenty thousand, according to the scouts."
Jin felt the blood drain from his face. Twenty thousand soldiers. This wasn't an assassination attempt—it was an invasion.
Prince Kwan's eyes glittered with an emotion Jin couldn't name. "It seems Prince Yong has answered the question of his involvement most definitively."
Jin looked between his "brother" and his general, both now focused on the immediate threat rather than their emperor's strange behavior. He had been granted a brief delay, but Kwan's suspicion wouldn't fade so easily.
War had come to Xingyan. And Emperor Tao—no, Jin Park—would have to lead it.