Shufeng stepped onto the dais to stand his position at the high table, however, with only three special chairs; one for the Emperor, the other for the Empress, and on the right of the Emperor's, the First Prince's chair; he felt like a stranger in the wrong place.
After fifteen years of banishment, he questioned whether or not he truly did belong here.
It was clear that the Emperor did not inform the servants of his special guest, for they had neither laid an extra table setting nor brought out one more chair. The reasons for which his father deliberately kept his invitation a secret eluded him. Was it to increase public interest, or so that no one could object to his decision?
Laughter, talking, music, drinking. The entire hall felt like a sea of cheerfulness, but raised voices heard from the darkness like the start of a gentle breeze and yet ignored, signified an impending storm brewing.
