Chapter Text
Snow fell heavily over the Imperial City, covering golden rooftops and muting the distant sound of war drums.
From atop the walls, soldiers watched the white horizon with tense hands wrapped around their spears.
The Mongols had arrived.
And they carried no torches.
No siege weapons.
No battle cries.
That was worse.
Mulan struggled to balance a jade tray as she hurried through the crowded palace corridors. Around her, the other servants whispered nervously while preparing the grand diplomatic banquet.
“They say they eat wolves,” one girl muttered.
“They say the Khan’s son ripped out a general’s eye.”
“They say—”
“They say too many foolish things,” Mulan interrupted quietly before continuing down the hall.
The other servants stared at her in surprise.
Mulan rarely spoke more than necessary.
She had learned long ago that invisible servants survived the longest.
Keeping her head lowered, she stepped through the massive doors of the imperial hall… and immediately felt the air change.
The golden elegance of the Chinese court clashed against the dark presence of the northern visitors.
Black furs.
Leather armor.
Curved blades.
The Mongols looked like wolves seated among peacocks.
And at the center of them sat Shan Yu.
Mulan recognized him instantly.
Not because she had seen him before.
But because he was impossible to mistake.
He was younger than she expected—perhaps only a few years older than her—but there was something deeply unsettling about the stillness in his body. Even seated, he looked as though he could strike at any moment.
His eyes swept across the hall once.
Measuring.
Calculating.
Mulan lowered her gaze immediately.
Servants were not meant to stare at honored guests.
She moved between tables refilling wine cups while musicians played soft melodies to disguise the tension suffocating the room.
On the dragon throne, the Emperor wore a calm smile.
Too calm.
Mulan had spent enough years inside the palace to recognize when nobles were lying.
And everyone was lying tonight.
The Great Khan drank slowly before speaking.
“The border has grown tired of war.”
His voice was rough like stone dragged across steel.
“China loses soldiers. We lose sons. Neither side truly wins.”
The Emperor inclined his head slightly.
“Peace is always preferable.”
“Written peace can be broken,” the Khan replied. “Shared blood cannot.”
Silence fell over the hall.
The imperial advisors visibly stiffened.
Mulan felt a strange knot tighten in her stomach.
Then the Khan placed one heavy hand on Shan Yu’s shoulder.
“My heir will take a bride from the imperial family when the proper time comes.”
The words landed heavily across the banquet hall.
Behind silk screens, the imperial princesses froze.
Mulan knew several of them well.
Delicate. Sheltered. Terrified.
None of them would survive among the Mongols.
The Emperor remained perfectly composed.
“It would honor us to unite our families.”
A lie.
Everyone in the room could taste it.
But the Khan seemed satisfied. He raised his cup, and the agreement was sealed that very night.
Years from now, a Chinese princess would be sent north.
And the war would end.
Or so the court hoped.
Mulan continued serving wine in silence until she passed near the Mongol table.
It lasted only a moment.
One brief second.
But she felt Shan Yu’s gaze settle on her.
Not on a princess.
Not on a noblewoman.
On a servant.
Mulan lowered her eyes at once.
Even so, a chill crawled down her spine.
Like a wolf had just noticed something interesting moving beneath the snow.