I often found myself shuttling between the two palaces thereafter. My name being Xiao Zhe, Ah-Yan addressed me as "Aunt Zhe." From my perspective, the child displayed unsettling maturity beyond his years - heartbreaking rather than admirable.
At first he'd ask about his mother's whereabouts, questioning why he couldn't see her. Eventually he stopped raising the subject, learning to interpret my silence. Instead he'd ask solemnly whether exemplary conduct might earn him reunion.
Words failed me. Though unwilling to explain the intricate web of grievances binding this situation, I nodded when meeting his earnest gaze.
Ah-Yan's talents proved extraordinary. His tutors hailed him as a once-in-a-century military prodigy, mastering everything from archery to battlefield strategy. After personal examination, the Emperor bestowed the imperial surname Xiao, naming him Xiao Yanshao.
As his star rose, whispers about his origins resurfaced. Some covertly mocked his bastard status. When Princess entrusted me to console him, I entered his chamber mid-"guidance" from his mentor - the Emperor's confidant and Golden Blade Royal Family's pillar.
"The Golden Blade Princess acted rashly in her youth," the statesman declared. "Though violating Royal family's edict against leaving Liao territory, she found peace with your father at Moon Bay. Song bandits destroyed that peace. Your father died shielding you both. Your elder brother vanished, likely slain. The Princess fought to bring you home, though the ordeal hardened her spirit. Aunt Zhe here witnessed everything."
Both turned to me - the boy seeking truth, the mentor with those falcon-sharp eyes we Liao prize. This was the Empire's answer. Therefore mine.
I nodded and affirmed with a sigh.