On the Day He Ascended the Throne, He Kneeled and Called Me Mother Empress - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

On the thirty-first day of my exile, a carriage from the Royal Court stopped in front of my dilapidated wooden shack.

The person who came to collect me was King Wutulie’s most trusted attendant.

The man stood at the door and bowed to me.

“The King requests your presence.”

I thought I was being taken to my execution.

But after being brought back to the palace, the first thing Wutulie said to me was:

“Have you chosen a wedding dress yet?”

I stood frozen, almost thinking my brain had been damaged by the cold.

The Old Wolf King sat by the hearth, a thick blanket over his knees, flipping through a book of wedding attire designs. He was old now, his temples dusted with frost, but his back remained straight. When he looked up, his presence was even more oppressive than that of the young Ah Qin.

Seeing that I remained silent, he leaned back, speaking as if we were merely discussing tomorrow’s weather.

“There are three new bolts of red silk in the storehouse. Gold thread, silver thread, and obsidian buttons are all at your disposal.”

“If the old designs are too dull, I’ll have the craftsmen work through the night to change them.”

“If you wish, the wolf head on the bridal crown can be replaced with a snow eagle.”

I stared at him, only finding my voice after a long silence.

“For whom is the King choosing a wedding dress?”

Wutulie smiled.

“For you.”

“Marry me.”

The room fell so silent that only the soft crackling of the charcoal fire could be heard.

I should have found it absurd.

A woman sent to the sacrificial altar by a man’s own son was now, a month later, being asked to marry his father. To anyone else, it would sound like the ravings of a madman.

But Wutulie didn’t look like he was joking in the slightest.

He set the book down, his tone softening slightly.

“Haya, I won’t use love to coax you. I’m old, and I’m not shameless enough for that.”

“What I want is a Queen who can stand by my side.”

“What you want is a surname that can silence everyone, a Queen’s Seal that allows you to deploy troops, audit accounts, and sign decrees at any time-and a way to stay alive.”

“In this marriage, we both get what we need.”

“If you nod your head, from this day forward, if anyone dares point at the brand on your collarbone and call you a half-blood, they’ll have to step over my corpse first.”

My throat tightened, and I suddenly didn’t know what to say.

From childhood to adulthood, every man I had dealt with spoke to me of endurance, waiting, grievances, and the future.

Only Wutulie sat there and told me clearly.

What I can give you.

And what I need you to give me.

This felt like a real transaction.

And it felt like respect.

I asked him, “Why me?”

Wutulie looked at me for a long time.

“Because Ah Qin is not worthy of you.”

“Because you were branded, yet you were willing to survive on your own. A woman who can crawl back from the snow will not lose to any spineless coward in the Royal Court.”

“And.”

He paused, his voice dropping lower.

“I owe General Gale a life.”

It turned out that during the battle at the border years ago, it was my father who had taken a fatal arrow for him.

I looked down at the thin calluses on my fingertips and suddenly smiled.

“Fine.”

“I’ll marry you.”

“But I have three conditions.”

“First, abolish the lowly brands on all mixed-bloods in the Exile Grounds; second, the Queen’s Seal stays in my personal possession, and no one may sign on my behalf; third, I want you to tell everyone personally at the wedding that you sought this marriage, not that I climbed my way into it.”

Wutulie listened and hardly hesitated.

“Granted.”

He pushed the book of wedding designs back toward me, his brow arching slightly.

“Now, pick a dress.”

I flipped through a few pages, suddenly remembering Ah Qin once saying that if I ever wore bright red, I would be beautiful.

At the time, I thought he meant he would marry me.

I never expected the person choosing my wedding dress would be his father.

On the day of the grand wedding, the entire Royal City was in an uproar.

Before the ceremonial music had even finished, Ah Qin burst into the golden hall with his sword drawn.

He was covered in wind and snow, his eyes terrifyingly bloodshot as he stared at the Queen’s crown on my head as if staring at a nightmare.

“Haya, have you lost your mind?”

Wutulie sat regally in the main seat, not even lifting an eyebrow.

“Put the sword down.”

“Father, she is my-”

“Your what?”

I raised a hand to interrupt him, slowly picking up the wine from the table and raising the cup toward him.

“Ah Qin.”

“Today is the wedding of your father and me.”

“According to etiquette, you should offer me a toast.”

He glared at me, his breathing ragged.

My smile grew lighter.

“What, have you forgotten your manners?”

“Then let me teach you.”

“Call me ‘Mother’.”

The entire hall fell into a deathly silence.

Wutulie leaned toward my side, casually pulling my cloak tighter around my shoulders. His tone was as calm as if he were apologizing for a wayward child.

“My son is undisciplined.”

“Please, bear with him.”

At that moment, I finally understood what it meant for someone to take a stand first.

It wasn’t just saying they would protect you.

It was standing beside you when everyone was watching.

No matter who came to challenge it.