The golden age is a lie.
Silk robes and feathered headdresses cannot conceal a dynasty's rot.
She marries into Prince Shou's household at sixteen and becomes a consort at twenty-two.
He is a barbarian from Yingzhou who rises to become a military governor by trading dozens of heads.
She calls him her godson, he calls her mother. They both know it's a transaction.
The war drums of Yuyang shatter every pretense. The white silk at Mawei Station is the only possible ending.
Power demands sacrifices.
History is written by the victors, but corpses don't lie.
