The morning after our conversation, a quiet storm began to brew within the palace, though I paid it no mind. My mind was still consumed by Li Lan—her smile, her wit, the thrilling confirmation that she was mine, and that we were destined for something great.
I was aware of the news that she had replaced her head maid with a trusted face from the Huangtu Kingdom. It had made its rounds with the speed of a whisper in a marketplace, and I had been waiting for the court chatter to settle. A small part of me—the old, insecure Prince—had felt a knot of worry: Did she not trust me enough to tell me? Would the court see this as a political maneuver?
But the new me, the man who had finally bared his soul, simply saw her taking charge of her own safety, which was exactly what I'd wanted. I smiled to myself, already anticipating her next brilliant move.
A eunuch's surprised voice announced her arrival: "The Princess Li Lan requests entry, Your Highness."
I looked up from my desk and saw her standing in the doorway of my private study, clutching a small box. A flicker of shock crossed my face; she had never ventured into my sanctuary before. The room, lined with scrolls and books, was a serious space that no longer suited the man I was becoming.
The old Prince Wang Cheng would have stayed behind his desk. But this new man, the one who now lived for her, didn't hesitate. "Send the eunuch away," I instructed, my voice low and intimate. As the doors closed, I rose and moved toward her, my face softening with the warmth I no longer had to hide.
"Li Lan," I said, taking the box gently from her hands. "You are here. And you have brought me something?"
She simply nodded, her voice momentarily lost. I led her to a low table by the window and gestured for her to sit. "I have not had a thing from your hands yet," I said, a playful smile on my lips, eager to put her at ease. "Please, prepare it for me."
As she carefully arranged the sweets on a small tray, a look of pure contentment settled over me. I made no mention of the new maid, the new guard, or the palace rumors. It didn't matter. She was here, in my space, sharing a piece of her world with me.
She pushed the tray toward me. I took the first piece, a famous Huangtu delicacy, my eyes never leaving hers. It was delicious, a rich, sweet taste of her home.
I ate every last one, a small, genuine smile playing on my lips with each bite. "Delicious," I said, finishing the last one with a satisfied sigh. I looked at her, a profound happiness in my gaze. "Of course, anything from your hands was obviously going to be delicious."
In that moment, I knew I had done the right thing by waiting. The new guard was a strategic move—a piece on the board. But this food, this shared moment of trust in my private study, was an offering of her heart. It was a language we both understood far better than any political intrigue. I was no longer a prince with no future. I was a man who saw her, who trusted her completely, and who was beginning to build a future with her.
"My heart," she began, the soft murmur of the term making my own heart swell. "I have something I must tell you."
My expression shifted, my gaze growing serious. I sensed the weight of her words—this was not banter; this was the truth of our destiny being unveiled.
"When my little sister was here, she took me aside on the night of the court banquet," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "She told me of a dream she had, a very specific dream. She said that in it, I was pregnant and I died whilst giving birth because I was poisoned."
The blood drained from my face. My hand, which had been resting on the table, clenched into a fist, crushing the air beneath it.
"I know it was only a dream," she continued, "but I felt the truth of it in my heart. A cold certainty, as if it was a memory. That is why I asked her to send me people I can trust. I needed my own guard, my own maid, people from our home kingdom around me. For my own protection, and for the protection of... our future."
The silence that followed was a crushing weight, heavy and cold, a chilling antithesis to the easy warmth we'd just shared. Every light word, every laugh, was brutally erased, replaced by a sudden, terrifying clarity. We aren't just a couple stealing fragile moments anymore; we are allies thrust into a battle I never wanted to fight.
The weight of the ensuing silence was a physical blow, heavy and cold, utterly annihilating the fleeting warmth of our shared moment. The casual, easy banter we'd just enjoyed was a lie; the terrifying truth was that the palace had stopped whispering and started moving.
The quiet, lurking threats—the ones I've spent my entire life as the unseen son perfecting the art of avoiding—are no longer distant background noise. They are a looming shadow, real and suffocating, and I feel the suffocating irony of it all. I built my existence to be insignificant, to be the quiet observer who poses no threat to the Crown, and yet here I am, dragged into the very center of the court's poison because they've targeted her.
Someone in this gilded cage, this place I genuinely wish I could simply vanish from, already wants to kill the woman I love. My peaceful, precious obscurity is shattered. Our shared destiny, which I always envisioned as a beautiful, abstract dream of a life far away from the Dragon Throne, has become a very, very real problem I can no longer ignore.
We have to move. And we have to move now. Not to secure a throne I despise, but to secure her life—because she deserves a man who can protect her, a man who is the greatest of his kind. I will not be the weak son who lets the court consume his wife.