Xue Liulan let out a soft laugh. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "Then, if one day I asked you to kill Zuo Xunxiao, would you do that as well?"
Murong Jin whipped her head around to stare at him, her eyes wide. She gave a hollow smile. "Xue Liulan, do I have another choice?"
The light in his eyes dimmed. He straightened up. "You could choose to kill me."
"You know I won't," she said, her gaze drifting past him to the closed doors of the chamber. Once she had walked through them, her fate had been sealed. She was his woman now, whether her heart agreed or not.
"Don't expect me to believe that I am more important to you than Zuo Xunxiao."
Her brow furrowed. "You want the truth, even if you know it will hurt?"
"Yes," he said, the hand behind his back clenching into a fist. He needed honesty from this woman. He needed a partnership with no shadows.
"Zuo Xunxiao is Murong Jin's dearest friend," she said, her eyes locked on his. "But he is nothing to the Fifth Prince's consort. Are you satisfied with that answer?"
So, from the moment she entered my residence, Murong Jin ceased to be Murong Jin. The thought was like a sudden lack of air. He forced a smile, but it felt stiff. He should have expected this. But hearing her say it…
His hands shot out, pulling her into his arms. He felt the scarred skin of her back beneath his touch. The lamps had been lit, but her chamber was dark. In the faint moonlight, he could see it—a long, ugly scar that snaked from her left shoulder blade down to her right hip.
It was an old wound, faded with time, but as his fingers traced its raised edge, he could almost feel the blade tearing through her flesh.
"The scar on your back…" he murmured, his palm warm as it moved from her shoulder down to her waist.
"From the Battle of Henei," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
The Battle of Henei. Three years ago. He remembered the stories. Murong Jin and Zuo Xunxiao, deep behind enemy lines. Zuo Xunxiao had carried her back to camp, half-dead, along with the head of the northern khan.
His arms tightened, pulling her flush against him. "You got it saving him, didn't you?"
"Yes." She didn't hesitate. That time in her life was still precious to her.
His brow furrowed, his hands pressing against her back as if he could erase the mark another man had left. His breath grew hot against her neck, his lips tracing a path up to her cheek.
"You…" she gasped, her hands instinctively pushing against his chest.
"Tonight, Murong Jin, you are mine," he growled. He swept her into his arms, then paused, a self-mocking laugh escaping him. "Or perhaps not."
She let her hands fall from his chest. This was her husband. From this moment on, her husband in truth.
He saw the tremor that ran through her body, the fear in her wide eyes. The lessons from the palace maids were gone from her mind. All she could see was the raw, possessive hunger in his gaze.
He caressed her cheek. "Murong Jin," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "From now on, just be the Fifth Prince's consort. Nothing more."
But when he entered her, there was none of that gentleness. It was not the act of a lover, but a ruthless, punishing claim.
Her hands dug into his arms, a cry of pain tearing from her lips. But was it for the tearing of her body, or the tearing of her soul?
Xue Liulan, she thought, even now, you won't let me indulge in the illusion of a happy marriage. A docile consort. Is that all I am to you? A tool to help you win your throne?
Bright sunlight fell on Murong Jin's closed eyelids. From the head of the bed, Xue Liulan reached out and drew the silk curtain. As the light softened, her brow relaxed. She stirred, nuzzling the embroidered pillow, still fast asleep.
He watched her turned back and gave a wry smile. Even in her dreams, she wouldn't face him.
"Is His Highness awake?" Little Dingzi called from outside.
"Mm," a low voice answered from within. The door opened, and Little Dingzi stared as if he'd seen a ghost. The Fifth Prince, in his own chambers, in the morning, wearing only his under-robes.
Xue Liulan flicked him on the head. "Seen a ghost?"
"N-no, Your Highness," Little Dingzi stammered, his eyes darting from his master's clear, sober eyes to the closed bedroom door behind him.
"What time is it?"
"The hour of the dragon, Your Highness."
"You're up early. Is something wrong?"
"Yes, Your Highness!" Little Dingzi said with a nervous giggle. "A summons from the Emperor. Eunuch Guo is waiting in the front hall."
"My father sent Guo Shangzhong?" Xue Liulan's expression sharpened. "I see."
"Shall I help Your Highness dress?" Little Dingzi asked, waving forward a line of maids with washbasins and official robes.
"Well prepared," Xue Liulan noted with a satisfied smile. "Have them wait for me in the study."
The study? Little Dingzi's eyes flicked back to the bedroom door. Of course. It all made sense now. The prince had another woman hidden away.
Xue Liulan slipped back into the room. Murong Jin, however, was a light sleeper. She had been awake since Little Dingzi first called out.
"Did I wake you?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Thirsty?"
She shook her head and sat up, pulling the quilt around her. "Why does the Emperor summon you?"
"I don't know. But I haven't caused any trouble recently."
"It must be serious if he sent Guo Shangzhong," she said, a worried frown on her face. "Be careful. With the Crown Prince's seat empty, now is not the time to make a mistake."
He listened, a slow smile spreading across his face. "If you're tired, you should sleep a little longer."
Her gaze fell to his wrist. Beneath his sleeve, she could see a long, purplish scratch. The mark her own nails had left in the heat of her pain the night before.
He saw her looking and held up his wrist. "Didn't know you hated me this much," he teased.
"Ah?" She quickly looked away. He could speak of last night so easily. She could not.
"Shy?" he leaned in closer.
She bit her lip and glared at him. "The Emperor is waiting. You should go."
"Alright, I'm going." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "I'll send the maids in to attend to you. Rest."
"Mm," she answered, her head bowed.
He watched her lie back down, then left, a satisfied look on his face.
Guo Shangzhong sat in the front hall, sipping his tea. He had been waiting for nearly an hour.
"Apologies for the long wait, Eunuch Guo," Xue Liulan said, strolling into the room.
Guo Shangzhong quickly rose and bowed. "Not at all, Your Highness. Shall we go?"
Xue Liulan glanced at the half-empty teacup in front of the eunuch, then turned to Little Dingzi. "Pack some of that Yu Maofeng tea we received yesterday for the Eunuch."
"Your Highness is too kind," Guo Shangzhong said with a grateful smile.
"Good tea is meant for those who can appreciate it," Xue Liulan said. He picked up the cup Guo Shangzhong had been drinking from and poured the contents onto the floor. "This swill is an insult to you."