The sun had barely risen, casting pale light across the tranquil courtyard, but inside the palace, the air was thick with tension. Ming had not slept since the fateful night when Zhen had broken the news of his forced marriage. It had been only a few days, yet it felt like an eternity, and now the consequences of their forbidden love were unfolding.
Zhen's eyes were red-rimmed, his once-proud posture slumped in defeat as he sat at the grand wooden desk in his chambers. The scrolls before him were filled with the Emperor's orders—orders that would change everything.
Ming stood in the center of the room, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, though they shook with barely contained emotion. His heart was in pieces, torn between his love for Zhen and the bitter realization that there was no place for him in the prince's future.
Zhen's voice broke the silence, raw with pain. "Ming, I have done everything I can, but the Emperor... the court... they will not allow it. They cannot tolerate the rumors. The whispers of a servant and a prince—it is treason in their eyes. You must leave."
The words sliced through Ming like a knife. "Leave," he repeated softly, his throat tightening with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. "You... you're sending me away."
Zhen's hand trembled as he reached for the letter on the desk. "The Emperor has commanded it. You are to be exiled to the farthest provinces. There, you will be far from the court, far from me. This is the only way to protect you. To protect us both."
Ming's eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears fall. He had been a servant, yes—but that had never mattered to him when he was with Zhen. Their love had transcended rank, transcended duty. But now, it seemed, the world was determined to tear them apart, and Zhen—his beloved Zhen—was powerless to stop it.
"You promised," Ming whispered, stepping closer. "You promised me you would never leave me."
Zhen's face contorted with anguish, his usually composed features crumpling under the weight of his heartbreak. He stood and walked toward Ming, but the distance between them felt like miles. His voice was thick with regret. "I never wanted this, Ming. I never wanted to send you away. But you must understand—I am the prince. My duty to the Emperor and the kingdom... it's too great. If I defy him, it will destroy everything. My family, the throne—everything we've worked for. I can't do that."
Ming's chest tightened, the pain in his heart almost unbearable. He wanted to scream, to rail against fate, but all that came out was a broken sigh. "And what of us? What of our love?"
Zhen's eyes flickered with helplessness, but his voice remained firm, even though it cracked under the weight of his emotions. "What good is love if it leads to destruction? I will not be the one to bring ruin upon my family, upon the people of this kingdom. You must go."
The words were final. The decision had been made. There was no room for negotiation, no space for hope.
Ming turned away, the coldness of the marble floor beneath his feet suddenly making the room feel distant. He had always known that their love could never be accepted by the world, but to hear Zhen speak those words so calmly—it felt like the final death of their bond.
"I won't forget you," Zhen continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I will carry you with me, in my heart, every day. But this is the only way."
Ming's heart twisted, and his breath hitched in his throat. He had never been good at expressing his emotions, always holding them back in favor of his duty as Zhen's servant. But now, with their future slipping away from him, the words burst out before he could stop them.
"Don't send me away," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I can't live without you. Please..."
Zhen's face softened for a fleeting moment, but the weight of his duty was too heavy to allow him to surrender to the desperation in Ming's eyes. "I can't let them take you from me," Zhen whispered, stepping forward to place his hand gently on Ming's shoulder. "But this is the only way to protect you."
Ming closed his eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, though he did not move. The prince he had loved so deeply was slipping from his grasp, and there was nothing he could do to hold on.
"I love you, Zhen," Ming whispered hoarsely. "I always have."
"I love you, too," Zhen replied, his voice choked with emotion. He drew in a shaky breath. "But I can't protect you here. You will be safe there... in exile."
Ming nodded slowly, his heart breaking with every beat. His mind screamed in protest, but his body was exhausted, unable to fight anymore. "I understand."
Zhen's hand lingered on his shoulder, and for a long moment, they stood together in the silence, both of them broken, both of them destroyed by forces beyond their control. Ming wanted to beg Zhen to come with him, to leave everything behind, but he knew that Zhen was trapped. His duty was unshakable. His future had been written for him the moment he was born.
Finally, Zhen stepped back, his face pale. "The carriage will be ready soon. I... I'm sorry, Ming."
Ming nodded once, too choked with emotion to speak. He turned and began to walk toward the door, his legs trembling beneath him. His heart felt as if it had been torn from his chest, and yet he knew there was no other choice. He could not stay.
As he stepped into the corridor, he could hear the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. It was Zhen, his voice calling his name.
Ming stopped, but he did not turn around. He couldn't. If he looked at Zhen again, he might never leave.
"Remember," Zhen's voice called softly from behind him. "I will always love you. Even if I cannot be with you... you will always have my heart."
Ming's eyes burned, but he took a steadying breath and continued on. His future was uncertain, his path unclear, but one thing was certain: He would never forget Zhen. The love they shared, the promises made under the moonlit sky—they would live on in his heart forever.
The sound of the door closing behind him marked the end of their love, and the beginning of an exile that would forever keep them apart.
The prince and the servant—forever separated by the cruel hand of fate.