The Imperial Palace was aglow. Hundreds of colorful lanterns floated in the sky above as people filled the streets, their voices ringing with laughter and celebration. A parade, led by a large red dragon, made its way along the main street while music and the scent of food filled the air.
Mulan stood inside the throne room, her mind a blur.
The past few hours had been surreal. Immediately after telling the Emperor her name, fear had filled Mulan. While she had saved the Emperor, she had done so as a woman. And it was still illegal for her to fight as one. She had followed him from the New Palace to the Imperial Palace with a lump in her throat, convinced he was going to punish her. But to her surprise, he had brought her to the palace to honor her.
Now she stood in front of the throne, a tiny figure surrounded by dozens of candles that lit up the room, making it warm and bright. Behind her, the most important people of the city stood watching her intently. Among them were Commander Tung, Honghui, and the rest of her battalion. Even Ramtish and Skatch were there, both no worse for wear despite being forced into battle. In fact, they looked almost handsome, freshly washed and standing with pride.
Rising from his throne, the Emperor approached Mulan. She bowed and smiled when he encouraged her to stand once more.
“Hua Mulan,” the Emperor began, his voice carrying over the crowd. “The people owe you a debt of thanks. I owe you my life. In gratitude for your service and dedication, I invite you to take your place among our greatest decorated warriors—as an officer in my Imperial Guard.”
Behind her, she heard the surprised murmurs from the onlookers. What the Emperor offered was an incredible honor. In fact, it was the greatest honor any soldier could wish for. It took Mulan’s breath away, and she had to move her gaze from the Emperor so he wouldn’t see the emotion running over her face. Unfortunately, when she turned, she found herself looking right at Yao, who had tears of his own running down his cheeks as he watched Mulan with pride. Seeing the large soldier weeping made Mulan smile, and she turned back to the Emperor. She knew what she had to say.
“Your Majesty,” she began, “I am deeply honored by this immeasurable invitation. But with humble apologies, I cannot accept it.” Once more, the room filled with surprised mumbles as those gathered tried to make sense of her answer. Only Commander Tung seemed to understand, and he gave her a reassuring smile as she went on. “I left home under cover of darkness and betrayed my family’s trust. I made choices I knew would risk their dishonor. Since then, I have pledged an oath to be loyal, brave, and true. In order to fulfill this oath, I must return home and make amends to my family.”
There was a pause as the Emperor considered Mulan’s words. Then he nodded. Raising his voice, he formally addressed the court. “Devotion to family is an essential virtue!” As his scribes took note of this new official declaration, the Emperor looked once more at Mulan. He did not say anything for a moment, his warm eyes seeming to peer into her soul. Then, as though satisfied with what he had seen there, the Emperor nodded again. This time, in a voice only she could hear, he said. “Very well, Hua Mulan.”
Turning, he moved back to the throne. Dismissed, Mulan made her way toward the soldiers—her friends. The night was young, and the celebration was just beginning. For the next few hours, Mulan reasoned, she would forget her journey home and just enjoy life. She would have time to think about what to say when she saw her family—and her father—later.
Dawn was beginning to brighten the edge of the Imperial City as Mulan led Black Wind across a bridge toward the main gates. In the sky above a few lanterns drifted aimlessly, while a boat floated empty in the water below. The city was quiet in the post-celebration hour, as was Mulan.
“You can’t leave.”
Hearing Honghui’s voice, Mulan turned, surprised by the emotion she felt as she looked over at the handsome young man. Throughout the night she had tried to find him, but to no avail. There was so much she wanted to say. She wanted to say how sorry she was and how she had wanted to tell him the truth all along. She wanted to say hello—and goodbye. But now that he was there, in front of her, she was at a loss for words.
Honghui walked closer, the rising sun making his hair light up and his eyes twinkle. He smiled as he approached, and Mulan couldn’t help smiling back. “The Emperor gives his permission for me to leave,” she said. “But you do not?”
“We’ve not said goodbye,” Honghui answered.
“Goodbye, Honghui,” she replied.
“Goodbye, Mulan.”There was an awkward beat as they stared into each other’s eyes, both clearly wanting—needing—to say more, and yet neither wishing to be the first to do so. Mulan shifted on her feet. Across from her, Honghui ran a hand through his hair. Mulan wondered what it would be like to take that hand and hold it in her own.
As if reading her thoughts, Honghui did just that. Reaching over, he tried to pull her hand free from Black Wind’s reins. Nervously, Mulan clung tighter to the leather. Honghui shook his head.
“You still won’t take my hand?” he asked. His voice was soft, deep with emotion.
Why was she hesitating? Honghui was standing there in front of her, asking for her hand, and yet in that moment she was more frightened than she had ever been—even more than when she had faced down B??ri Khan. This felt more real, more dangerous, more important. The air was charged with an electricity she could not yet define. Holding in a breath, Mulan let her fingers curl around his. As she did so, emotion flooded through her. She gazed down at their fingers, now twined together, and she saw a future. Lifting her eyes, she met Honghui’s gaze. For the first time she truly looked at him and let him look at her??.??.??. as Mulan. Her head moved closer to his. Closer, and closer, until she paused, her lips inches from Honghui’s.
“I’ve never kissed a man before,” she said.
Honghui smiled. “Neither have I.”
And then, Honghui brought his lips to hers. As they kissed, their fingers stayed locked and Mulan sank into Honghui. It was, she thought as a morning dove cooed somewhere nearby, everything she had hoped for and nothing she could have dared dream for. It was perfect.
Mulan reluctantly pulled back, breaking the kiss. Her cheeks flushed, she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and smiled nervously at Honghui. If she could have, she would have stayed there, on that bridge, kissing Honghui for the rest of her life. But she had told the Emperor she had amends to make, and she couldn’t afford the distraction, no matter how pleasant it was.
Picking up the reins from where they had dropped, Mulan threw them over Black Wind’s head. Then she jumped on the horse’s back. With one last look, too afraid that if she spoke, her voice would break with emotion, Mulan turned and rode away. But before she had even reached the gate, she heard Honghui shout, “I will see you again, Hua Mulan!”
Turning, she saw him standing where she had left him, his hand in the air, waving goodbye. She smiled back at him.
Yes,
she thought,
I hope.
Then she urged Black Wind forward, disappearing through the gate and leaving the palace, and Honghui, behind.