Jin Wei did not laugh easily.
This was a fact—well known, well proven, and personally maintained through years of discipline, war, and disappointment.
And yet.
Xueyi laughed.
Not politely. Not softly. Not the kind of laugh meant to impress servants or elders.
She laughed like she forgot—just for a moment—where she was.
It was unguarded. Brief. Real.
It unsettled him.
She sat across from him at the breakfast table, sleeves slightly pushed back, hair loosely arranged after the maids had retreated. The food lay untouched between them—too elaborate, too early.
She poked at a steamed bun suspiciously. "So tell me honestly," she said, "is it rude if I don't finish all this? Or will someone write a tragic poem about the General's wife disrespecting breakfast?"
"No poem," he replied. "At worst, gossip."
She nodded solemnly. "Ah. Social death instead of poetic death. Noted."
That… was when she laughed again.
Jin Wei looked away immediately.
*This is unnecessary,* he told himself. *Focus.*
Unfortunately, focus was difficult when she kept speaking.
"So," she continued casually, "do all generals sleep on couches after weddings, or are you just particularly committed to furniture?"
He did not react.
Outwardly.
"In the army," he said evenly, "we sleep where we must."
She tilted her head. "And the army includes my bedroom?"
"…Temporarily."
That earned him a look—sharp, amused, dangerous.
He should not find this tolerable.
He found it more than tolerable.
A servant entered, bowing low. "General, Madam—the carriage is prepared. His Majesty and Her Majesty await your presence at the palace."
Xueyi froze mid-bite.
Her smile vanished.
"Oh," she said faintly. "The king. And queen. Already."
"Yes," Jin Wei replied. "It is customary."
She stared at him. "I just survived a wedding. Is there no recovery period? No grace days? No—emotionally fragile bride exemption?"
"There is not."
She sighed. "Ancient systems really lacked empathy."
He stood, adjusting his robe. "You will not be questioned harshly."
She eyed him. "You sound very confident about that."
"I will be present."
Something about the way he said it—firm, final—made her shoulders relax despite herself.
They entered the carriage together.
The ride was quiet.
Too quiet.
Xueyi fidgeted, then blurted, "Do I bow first? Or do you? Or do we bow together? Because if I mess this up, I would prefer to mess it up *consistently*."
He paused.
"Follow my lead."
She exhaled. "Good. Because my instincts are unreliable."
When they arrived at the palace gates, Jin Wei stepped down first, then offered his hand.
She hesitated—just a fraction—before taking it.
Her grip was warm.
Too warm.
The palace hall was too quiet.
Not peaceful—*measured*.
Jin Wei recognized this silence. It was the kind that existed only where power sat comfortably and waited for others to falter.
He walked beside Xueyi, matching her pace deliberately. She kept her head high, steps careful, expression composed—though he could sense the tension beneath it.
*She feels it,* he thought. *She just doesn't know why yet.*
The Queen sat beside the King, dressed in layered jade and gold, her posture immaculate. Her face held a smile so practiced it could have been carved.
Her eyes, however, were not smiling.
They landed on Xueyi.
And stayed there.
They bowed.
Xueyi's movement was precise—she followed Jin Wei perfectly. No mistake. No hesitation.
*Good,* he noted. *Very good.*
"Rise," the King said, voice even.
The Queen spoke immediately after, her tone gentle enough to deceive a careless ear.
"So… this is Lady Xueyi."
Xueyi inclined her head politely. "Your Majesty."
The Queen's gaze swept over her slowly—from the fall of her sleeves to the faint tension in her shoulders.
"Delicate," the Queen murmured. "I suppose even delicate things can cause… great upheaval."
Xueyi blinked.
Jin Wei did not.
The Queen turned her attention to him. "General Jin Wei, you act quickly. One day, a rescue. The next, a wedding."
"Circumstances required decisiveness," he replied calmly.
"Indeed," she said. "Circumstances."
Her fingers tightened slightly on the armrest.
"After all," the Queen continued, "because of recent *circumstances*, the palace has undergone… adjustments."
Xueyi stiffened beside him.
*She hears it now,* Jin Wei realized. *But she still doesn't understand.*
The King spoke, tone firm. "That matter has been settled."
The Queen smiled again—this one sharper. "Of course. His Majesty is wise."
She turned back to Xueyi. "It must be comforting, Lady Xueyi, to know how much influence you possess. A single incident—and a Crown Prince becomes merely a First Prince."
The hall went still.
Xueyi's breath caught.
Jin Wei stepped forward—just half a step.
"That responsibility is mine," he said evenly. "The Crown Prince violated imperial law."
The Queen's gaze snapped to him.
"For a woman," she said softly.
"For a crime," Jin Wei corrected.
Silence stretched.
Xueyi's fingers curled into her sleeves.
*She's blaming herself,* he realized, jaw tightening. *As expected.*
The King's voice cut through the tension. "Enough."
The Queen lowered her eyes, but resentment lingered like perfume—heavy, impossible to ignore.
"Welcome to the palace," she said finally, her words polished and cold. "I hope you will… not bring further misfortune upon this family."
Xueyi bowed again, deeper this time. "I would never intend to."
*Intentions,* Jin Wei thought, *have never mattered here.*
As they turned to leave, he felt her hesitation—brief, controlled, but there.
He did not reach for her.
He simply said, quietly, so only she could hear,
"You did nothing wrong."
She looked at him—surprised.
Then nodded.
Outside the hall, sunlight felt almost unreal.
Xueyi exhaled sharply. "Wow," she muttered under her breath. "Your palace hospitality is… intense."
That earned him a glance.
"That was her being polite," he replied.
She stared. "I don't like her."
"I know."
A beat.
"…She doesn't like me either, does she?"
"No."
She sighed. "Figures. I get kidnapped once and accidentally ruin a man's career."
Jin Wei paused, then said firmly, "He ruined his own."
She laughed—soft, brief, almost disbelieving.
And Jin Wei realized, with a quiet certainty, that this—
*This palace*—
would be far more dangerous for her than any battlefield.
And this time, he would not be sent away.