CHAPTER FOUR — THE ONE WHO SPOKE
The voice drifted across the hall like silk drawn over steel — smooth, elegant, and carrying a quiet authority that made the air itself tighten.
Tang Kexin froze mid‑step.
Mu Shaoyi halted as well, his expression darkening further, though whether from irritation or unease, she could not tell. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.
Slowly — far too slowly for her liking — Tang Kexin turned her head.
The man who had spoken sat beside the Crown Prince, his posture relaxed, almost languid, as though the chaos unfolding before him were nothing more than a mild amusement. His phoenix‑shaped eyes lifted, their dark pupils gleaming with a depth that made her stomach twist.
The Second Prince.
The one whose smile could topple kingdoms.
He regarded her with a faint, unreadable curve of the lips — not quite a smile, not quite a smirk, but something in between. Something dangerous.
"Lady Tang," he said softly, "where are you going in such a hurry?"
The hall fell utterly silent.
Tang Kexin felt every gaze turn towards her. The scrutiny pressed against her skin like needles. Her heart thudded painfully, but she forced her expression into the same foolish, wide‑eyed innocence the original girl had worn so naturally.
"H‑husband is leaving," she stammered, clinging to Mu Shaoyi's arm with exaggerated desperation. "Kexin is scared… scared of the dead body…"
A few young ladies snickered behind their sleeves. Someone muttered, "As brainless as ever." Another whispered, "She's hopeless."
Tang Kexin ignored them.
The Second Prince's gaze, however, did not waver. It lingered on her face, then drifted — ever so subtly — to her left shoulder.
Her blood ran cold.
He knew.
He knew exactly what he was looking for.
And he was waiting.
"Lady Tang," he said again, his tone light, almost conversational, "the Crown Prince has ordered an inspection. It would be improper to leave before it is completed."
Improper.
Not forbidden.
Not suspicious.
Just… improper.
A gentle reminder — with the weight of a blade pressed to her throat.
Tang Kexin's mind raced. If she refused, she would be dragged back. If she complied, she would be exposed. Either way, she would die.
Mu Shaoyi, oblivious to her inner turmoil, shook her off with a sharp jerk.
"Let go," he snapped. "Do not embarrass me further."
She clung tighter.
"Darling… don't leave me…"
He glared at her with open disgust. "Tang Kexin, behave yourself."
The Second Prince's voice drifted across the hall once more.
"Lady Tang," he said, "come here."
Her breath caught.
Not a request.
Not a suggestion.
An order.
Mu Shaoyi stiffened beside her. Even he did not dare defy that tone.
Tang Kexin's fingers trembled. She released Mu Shaoyi's sleeve and turned slowly, her steps small and hesitant, perfectly mimicking the foolish, frightened girl whose body she now inhabited.
She approached the Second Prince, each step feeling like a step towards her own execution.
When she reached him, he lifted a hand — elegant, pale, and deceptively gentle — and gestured for her to kneel.
Her knees nearly buckled.
She knelt.
His gaze swept over her with the calm precision of a man examining a puzzle he already knew the answer to.
"Lady Tang," he murmured, "lift your left sleeve."
Her heart stopped.
The hall watched in breathless silence.
Tang Kexin swallowed hard. Her fingers twitched. She forced her expression into trembling confusion.
"Your Highness… Kexin is scared…"
He smiled.
A soft, beautiful, utterly merciless smile.
"Do not be afraid," he said. "I am here."
The exact words the man in the hidden chamber had spoken.
Her blood turned to ice.
It was him.
The man from last night.
The one who had bitten her.
The one who had set this trap.
The Second Prince.
Her vision blurred for a moment, not from fear, but from the sheer, crushing realisation of how thoroughly she had been ensnared.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
"Be good," he whispered, "and don't be afraid."
Her breath hitched.
He straightened, his expression once again serene and unreadable.
"Lift your sleeve," he repeated, this time loud enough for the hall to hear.
Tang Kexin's fingers tightened around her sleeve.
She had seconds — mere seconds — to think of something, anything, that could save her life.
And she had none.