Prince Zheng was dressed in dark blue robes, a waning mood embroidered across his chest.
He looked older, better poised on his wheelchair. His black hair had been tied up in his usual bun, but a silver piece of cloth had been wrapped around it as a sign of his status.
My mouth went dry as I stared at him from a distance, both glad and terrified. He looked so different in these clothes.
Gone were the pale colours, which made people associate him with a child. Although his coronation was tomorrow, the Palace staff have begun treating him as they should have all those years ago.
They rushed to get his new robes out in two nights, embroidering and sewing to his size. The Prince put them on just this morning, looking grimly amused when he came out of his room.
The Emperor had bestowed him an Imperial Prince title despite the fact that he had yet to marry: 'Prince Han' (hán wáng).
