Ghost in the palace-Chapter 50: price of loyalty

The camp slept under a bruised red sky.

Ash from the burned grain wagons still hung faintly in the air, but inside Duke Lian’s tent, the light of a single lamp burned steady.

Stacks of sealed scrolls lay before him — ledgers, signatures, coded letters — proof of everything.

The name Chen Wei appeared again and again, stamped beside forged seals and false deliveries.

Each mark was a nail in the coffin of Lady Chen’s uncle, the man whose greed had bled the Empire’s borders dry.

General Han Yi stood beside the table, silent but watchful.

"You have enough evidence to bury a dynasty," he said finally.

Duke Lian tied the scrolls together with red silk. "Then let us bury one snake first."

He handed a smaller bundle to his most trusted guard, a scarred man named Shen.

"You will ride ahead," the Duke said. "Deliver this to His Majesty’s hands only. No ministers, no guards, no one in between. You ride through the night. Do not stop until dawn."

Shen saluted, eyes fierce. "I swear on my life, my lord."

The Duke nodded. "Good. The Emperor must have truth before the court hears lies."

Han Yi frowned. "You should go with the escort. These men will kill again if they know you carry the originals."

The Duke smiled faintly. "And if I hide, what lesson does that teach my soldiers? That justice fears its own shadow?"

Han Yi’s jaw tightened. "You’re too brave for your own good."

The Duke laughed softly. "No, General. I’m too old to be afraid."

He strapped his sword to his side and stepped into the night.

They left before dawn — ten riders moving swiftly across the narrow road that wound through the rocky northern hills.

The wind bit cold against their cloaks, the air heavy with silence.

By midday, the sun broke through the clouds.

The Duke raised a hand, signaling the group to rest near the pass.

"Once we cross this ridge, the capital road lies ahead," he said. "We’ll reach home by tomorrow."

But as he turned his horse, the silence cracked.

A twang cut through the wind.

The first arrow struck one of the men in the throat.

Before the others could react, a rain of shafts descended from both sides of the pass.

"Ambush!"

The Duke drew his sword, deflecting one arrow mid-flight, shouting orders. "Form the line! Protect the scrolls!"

Chaos exploded. Horses screamed. Steel met steel as masked men emerged from the rocks, blades flashing.

Han Yi’s warning echoed in his mind — They will kill again if they know.

Another arrow hissed through the air.

The Duke turned just in time for it to pierce his shoulder, driving him back in the saddle.

Pain exploded down his arm.

"Ride!" he roared to his men. "Get through!"

Blood soaked through his sleeve.

He gritted his teeth, swinging his sword as another attacker lunged. With one strike, the Duke cut the man down.

But there were too many.

Shen grabbed the Duke’s reins, shouting, "My lord, fall back! We have to move!"

"Go!" the Duke barked. "Deliver the letter—!"

Another arrow slammed into his side, stealing his breath. His sword clattered against the rocks.

The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was his men breaking through the trees, the scrolls tied to a rider’s saddle, vanishing toward the capital.

Hours later, near dusk, a group of battered soldiers arrived at Duke Lian’s estate — their armor bloodied, their faces streaked with dust and grief.

Two of them carried their master between them, unconscious, his robes dark with blood.

The gates burst open as Lady Xiu and their daughters ran forward.

"Father!" "My lord!"

Lady Xiu fell to her knees beside him, her hands trembling as she touched his face.

"He’s burning up," she whispered. "Bring the physician! Hurry!"

The servants scattered, weeping, carrying the Duke into the inner hall.

Ananya’s younger sister clung to her mother’s sleeve, crying. "He promised he would come back safe!"

Lady Xiu pressed her hand against his chest, feeling the faint heartbeat. "He kept his promise... he came back."

Meanwhile, far away in the capital, the Emperor sat alone again in his study.

The courier from the border knelt before him, presenting the sealed bundle.

Zhao Rui broke the wax and scanned the documents quickly — each line confirming what he had feared.

Chen Valley’s name.

Lady Chen’s uncle.

Forged orders bearing the imperial seal.

By the time he reached the last page, his expression had turned to ice.

"Summon the guards," he said quietly. "At once."

The eunuch bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Moments later, the Emperor’s voice rang cold as steel through the hall.

"Cuff Lord Chen before dawn. Seal his estate. No one enters, no one leaves."

The eunuch hesitated. "Your Majesty... the Lord is uncle to—"

"Silence." The Emperor’s gaze cut through him. "Tomorrow, I’ll hold court. By sunrise, I’ll decide his fate before the Empire."

He looked down once more at the blood-stained edge of the Duke’s letter and whispered, almost to himself,

"You’ve done enough, old friend. Now it’s my turn."