The palace was always alive with whispers.
Servants murmured in the halls, ministers spoke in hushed voices, and even the rustling of silk robes carried the weight of unspoken thoughts. Rui had learned to listen to the silence between words, to hear what was not said.
And right now, the silence between him and Li Yuan was deafening.
A Fractured Routine
For days, Rui had kept his distance.
He still fulfilled his role—attending court when summoned, walking alongside Li Yuan when required—but he remained cold, his presence like an untouchable wisp of smoke. Every time Li Yuan reached for him, he slipped away before fingers could grasp hold.
It was infuriating.
Li Yuan was a man used to control. He commanded armies, shaped empires, and bent men to his will. Yet here was Rui, standing beside him yet refusing to be touched, yielding yet never truly his.
Tonight, Li Yuan had had enough.
The imperial banquet had ended, the ministers had long since departed, but Rui remained seated in the vast dining hall, absentmindedly running his fingers along the rim of his wine cup. The dim candlelight cast shadows against his pale skin, making him seem almost ethereal—almost unreal.
Li Yuan studied him for a long moment before breaking the silence.
"You've barely spoken to me in days."
Rui did not look up. "Have I offended Your Majesty?"
Li Yuan narrowed his eyes. "Don't play that game with me, Rui. If you have something to say, say it."
Finally, Rui met his gaze, his silver eyes unreadable. "There is nothing to say."
"Nothing?" Li Yuan scoffed. "Not even about that night?"
Rui tensed, but his expression remained composed. "I told you before. It meant nothing."
A flicker of irritation crossed Li Yuan's face. He had expected resistance, but not this icy detachment. Rui was slipping further and further away from him, and for the first time, Li Yuan wasn't certain how to stop it.
"You act as if you regret it," Li Yuan said, his voice low.
Rui's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I do."
Li Yuan's jaw tightened. He had known the words were coming, but hearing them still sent a sharp sting through his chest. He wanted to argue, to demand why, to remind Rui that he had wanted it too.
But that wasn't what Rui needed from him right now.
And that frustrated him more than anything.
A Conversation with the Empress Dowager
The next morning, Li Yuan found himself summoned by the Empress Dowager.
His mother was a woman of quiet strength, her presence never needing force to command attention. She sat in her private chamber, delicately brewing tea as Li Yuan entered.
"You are troubled," she remarked, pouring a cup without looking up.
Li Yuan exhaled, lowering himself onto the silk cushion opposite her. "It is nothing I cannot handle."
A knowing smile touched her lips. "I see. And does this 'nothing' have silver hair and a sharp tongue?"
Li Yuan's expression darkened. "You hear everything, don't you?"
"Only what is worth hearing." She placed the teacup before him. "Tell me, my son. Why did you bring Rui into this palace?"
Li Yuan frowned. "You know why. Political stability, control over his people—"
"No," she interrupted gently. "That is why a conqueror would take him. I am asking why you, Li Yuan, have kept him by your side."
Li Yuan hesitated.
For so long, he had convinced himself that Rui was just another victory, another piece in the game of power. But that explanation was starting to feel… hollow.
His mother watched him closely. "If you do not know the answer, then perhaps you should start searching for it."
Li Yuan lowered his gaze, her words stirring something in him he wasn't ready to face.
The Distance Between Them
That night, Li Yuan found himself standing outside Rui's chambers. He hadn't planned to come here—his feet had carried him of their own accord.
The guards stationed outside bowed as he approached. "Your Majesty."
He nodded before dismissing them with a wave of his hand. Then, without knocking, he pushed the doors open.
Rui was seated by the window again, reading by candlelight. He did not seem surprised to see Li Yuan. If anything, he looked resigned.
"You make a habit of entering without invitation," Rui murmured, not looking up from his scroll.
Li Yuan ignored the jab, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Why do you hate me?"
Rui finally met his gaze. "I don't hate you."
"Then why do you act as if you do?"
Rui sighed, setting the scroll aside. "Because I don't know what to do with you, Li Yuan."
Li Yuan crossed the room in two strides, stopping just before Rui. "Then let me make it simple. Stay by my side."
Rui let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. "You say that as if it's easy."
"It is easy," Li Yuan countered. "You just refuse to accept it."
Rui shook his head, looking away. "I refuse to accept something that isn't real."
The words struck deeper than they should have. Li Yuan reached out then, fingers brushing against Rui's chin, gently forcing him to look back at him.
"What if it is real?"
For a moment, Rui looked caught between defiance and something softer, something more fragile. But then, as quickly as it came, it vanished.
"You don't even know what you want, Li Yuan," Rui whispered. "And until you do, I cannot let myself be yours."
Li Yuan's fingers curled slightly against Rui's skin, but after a moment, he withdrew his hand.
Rui was right.
And that realization unsettled him more than he cared to admit.