Reluctance washed over Xiang Yu, his fingers brushing the cool metal of the ring on his finger. Yet, reassured by the steward’s promise, he released it into the old man’s hand. "Fine," he conceded, a small sigh escaping his lips.
The steward clutched the ring with care, then turned back to the maids. "Make sure His Majesty looks even more stunning. I don’t want those old farts in the advisory council saying anything negative," he added with a hint of playful mischief.
Xiang Yu chuckled softly, a lightness blooming in his heart. "They will still have something negative to say," he replied, amused.
"Then I will cut off their tongues," the steward quipped, his eyes glinting with jest.
Xiang Yu blinked in surprise, his heart unexpectedly touched. The moment reminded him of Old Song and his master, who had cared for him deeply. He settled into the chair, patiently allowing the maids to finish with his hair while visions of Han Xin danced in his mind.
Meanwhile, Han Xin faced his communicator, his expression a mix of confusion and yearning. The last time he had seen Xiang Yu was two days ago, when Marshal Wu had insisted they separate for preparation.
An uneasy feeling churned in his stomach. Judging by the marshal’s stern demeanor, it felt as if the man reveled in their separation, savoring every moment of it.
Though Han Xin could have called or sent a message, today, the silence was unbearable. "Why hasn’t he replied?" he murmured to himself, frustration lining his voice.
From across the room, Han Zhan caught the hint of anxiety written across Han Xin’s face. He approached, a supportive smile gracing his lips. "Ah-Xin, get dressed. The faster you finish, the sooner you will see him," he encouraged.
The younger man sighed, a cloud of worry hovering over him. "But why isn’t he replying?" he echoed, glancing at his reflection.
"Because he’s probably preparing and can’t see his communicator," Han Zhan replied, motioning for Han Xin to hurry up. He turned back to adjust his cufflinks almost absentmindedly.
Curiosity bubbled within Han Xin, and he asked, "When you got married, how... how did it feel?"
Han Zhan paused in his task, the memories flooding back. "I was nervous," he admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "We didn’t have a big ceremony. Just the marriage register office... and I messed up my vows."
Han Xin felt his heartbeat quicken. The thought of messing up gripped him with anxiety. This moment was everything he desired, but would he be able to go through the ceremony?
Sensing his worry, Han Zhan placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It will be fine," he said, his voice steady.
Emboldened, Han Xin looked up at the portraits of his parents above the mantel, their smiling faces a source of strength. Hope flickered in his heart, reminding him that love would guide him through the day ahead.
Han Xin stood tall in the ceremonial chamber, the soft glow of holographic lights glinting off the intricate embroidery of his crimson robes. The fabric, a rare star-threaded silk, shimmered like captured dawn, its surface alive with shifting patterns of gold and obsidian. The layers of his attire draped gracefully, each fold and seam meticulously arranged, making him appear both regal and timeless.
His dark hair was pulled back into an intricate style, adorned with a gleaming circlet that bore the insignia of the imperial lineage. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, betrayed none of the rapid pounding of his heart.
Han Zhan approached him with a firm yet warm smile. "It’s time, Ah-Xin," he said, bowing slightly before gesturing toward the hover car waiting outside. The vehicle gleamed with the same royal hues as Han Xin’s attire. The door slid open with a quiet hiss as Han Xin descended the steps of the chamber with the unhurried, commanding grace of a ruler.
As he settled into the plush interior of the hover car, the door closed with a deliberate click, sealing him in. Han Zhan gave a sharp nod to the driver, and the hover car began its procession, gliding forward with barely a whisper of sound.
The streets of the imperial capital stretched before him, alive with energy. The citizens of the galaxy’s most powerful empire had gathered en masse, lining the broad avenues in their thousands. They waved flags of deep red adorned with golden constellations, the imperial emblem emblazoned proudly in their midst.
The air buzzed with cheers, music, and celebratory cries, a cacophony that echoed through the towering megastructures and crystalline domes of the city.
Above, automated dispensers launched streams of vibrant red pamphlets into the air. They fluttered down like enchanted leaves, catching the light of the setting sun before landing in the eager hands of the crowd. Each pamphlet carried a unique code of star coins, wedding gifts from their imperial lord.
The citizens scanned the codes with their communicators, and delighted cheers rose as their accounts lit up showing a greater star coin balance.
Han Xin sat with his back straight, his posture disciplined and regal, but within, his heart raced like a comet hurtling through space. His stern expression belied the swirl of emotions within him.
Xiang Yu had told him that there was no need for a big ceremony but Han Xin had refused. His ancestors had celebrated their unions with grandiose ceremonies that became the stuff of legend, and he wanted no less for the man who held his heart.
This spectacle, this celebration, was his way of proclaiming to the galaxy that their bond was unbreakable and that Xiang Yu was not only loved but deeply valued.
The hover car moved smoothly along the route, and Han Xin gazed out at the sea of faces turned toward him. Children perched on their parents’ shoulders waved excitedly, and elderly couples clung to each other, tears of joy shining in their eyes. The city seemed to pulse with life, its citizens united in this moment of celebration.
As the vehicle approached the final leg of the journey, the distant silhouette of the Imperial Terrace came into view. Han Xin allowed himself a small smile, the first crack in his otherwise stoic demeanor.
His heart raced not from nerves but from anticipation. Soon, he would be standing before Xiang Yu, and together, they would take their place under the starlit sky, as countless generations had before them.