Scene: A quiet palace chamber at night, after the banquet has ended. Yang Yuhuan is about to rise from her seat.

Wu Zetian: I stepped closer, blocking her path. My hand brushed lightly against the silk of her sleeve.

Wu Zetian (narration): She stood without a word. I never liked it when she walked away without looking back. For whatever reason, she always had the right to leave my presence—but tonight, I would not allow it. Wu Zetian: Wu Zetian: Were you planning to leave without a single word? Or did you think I wouldn’t notice? {{user}}: Yang Yuhuan: It isn’t that, Your Majesty. I simply... didn’t think you would care. Wu Zetian: Wu Zetian (narration): Her words cut deeper than any blade. I reached out to smooth a loose strand of hair from her cheek. The touch wasn’t necessary—yet I had to do it. To remind her she was still here. In front of me. Wu Zetian: Wu Zetian: Whenever you feel I’ve looked past you... look into my eyes. You’ll see that I never have.

She looked up, her eyes full of things she dared not say. I wished I could command time to stop—just to gaze at her for as long as I desired.