Jin sat in her palace. The cup of poisoned wine stood on the table, taunting her. Her husband was, in all probability, already dead. Confucian precepts whispered a good wife should follow him.
Yet she hadn't been a good wife, had she? If not for her, he might have lived. Might have succeeded.
Li Shimin would be here shortly if he cared for her still. She considered downing the cup just so she wouldn't have to find out whether or not he cared about her enough to come for her or if he'd moved on like she hadn't. She could tell herself on her deathbed that Shimin was coming, merely delayed.
Jiancheng had been a good husband. There had been no reason for Jin to betray him, save for who he wasn't.
The clouds in the sky gradually thinned. Jin reached for the cup. If Shimin-
"Prince Qin!" one of the guards shouted from outside. "This is a lady's residence! You can't just barge in!"
Shimin's side of the argument was not quite loud enough to make out words. He and the guards argued, close to coming to blows.
Jin signaled to one of her maids. "Tell Captain Wu to let in the Prince." The maid bowed and scurried off.
"Come in," she said when she heard footsteps outside.
Li Shimin stormed up the steps and threw open the screen door. He froze in place, panting, the moment he saw her.
"Shimin," she greeted him.
"Jin." He walked to her and sank down opposite to her. "Your husband..."
"I know."
He fell silent. He stared in her eyes before finally speaking. "Why didn't you wait for me?" he quietly asked.
"If I had, how could I have sent word of the assassination attempt?"
Shimin recoiled as if slapped. "That was you?"
"Of course."
He stared at her, mouth gradually parting in shock as the realization sank in. "You did it for me," he whispered. "All of it, for me."
Jin bowed her head. She couldn't deny the accusation even if she had wanted to. "I knew you would clash with your brothers," she quietly said. "This way, I could ensure your victory." She had made him the next Emperor of Tang.
Shimin knew that as well, of course. He rose and rounded the table. "Shimin is forever in your debt. Please accept this bow as paltry repayment for youe sacrifice." He prostrated himself, forehead hitting the floor and hands out in front of him, just barely not touching the hem of her skirt.
Jin's breath caught. "Please, this is too much." She leaned over and grasped his hands – oh, how warm they were, and lightly calloused from his life on the battlefield – to pull him up.
Their eyes met. Jin breathed in, deeply, and tried to recall what she now had to do. She'd never planned beyond the moment of her widowhood, never thought of life after she had handed Shimin his victory.
Shimin hadn't let go of her hands.
"What will happen to me and Changge?" she asked.
"I would..." Shimin paused. "Would you be my consort? You would keep your retainers and my niece would grow up as an Imperial Princess of Tang, as is her birthright."
"What of the Court? They must already be at arms. Would you antagonize them more?" She would not have Shimin throw away the victory she had given him.
"I can handle them. There is no competition for me; the throne shall be mine. Especially with such a long-thinking strategist by my side." He squeezed Jin's hands.
Jin smiled. "I accept, Li Shimin. I accept."
Shimin bowed, then reluctantly let go of her hands. "I will make the arrangements," he said. "Until we meet again."
"Until we meet again," Jin echoed, watching Shimin's reluctantly departing back.
A good wife would have followed her husband to Meng Po's bowl. A good wife would not have sent him there in the first place. Jin poured the poisoned wine on the floor. Perhaps she would be a better wife for this one.