Xiao Zhi was angry.
Not the kind that burned hot and loud. Not the kind that demanded witnesses or erupted into shouting. It was the kind that sat low in her chest, so heavy it refused to lift no matter how deeply she breathed.
Even with the Khan's pass exempting her from palace labor, she needed to work today.
Staying still would have crushed her.
She scrubbed the cloth harder than necessary. Sleeves rolled high as fabric slapped against the washboard. Water spilled over the rim. She welcomed the sting in her hands. It gave the anger somewhere to go.
She hated the palace today.
Hated the smell of wet cloth and cold stone.
Hated the way every corner reminded her she had nowhere else to be.
And she hated Ruhan.
Not because he had kissed her. But because he had stepped back afterward.
"Different status, my ass," she muttered, dragging the cloth over the board again, harder this time. The friction bit into her skin. She didn't stop. "You want boundaries? Fine. I'll give you boundaries."
In her mind, Ruhan was a coward.
Always retreating. Always choosing distance over confrontation. If he truly cared, he would have found a way. He wouldn't hide behind titles and rules like shields. He wouldn't pretend feelings could simply be folded away because they were inconvenient.
Or maybe it should have been her marriage that stopped him.
But it wasn't.
Kabil married her only to torment her. There was no love on either side. That truth was painfully clear. And Ruhan knew it. He had seen the bruises, tended the wounds, pulled her back from pain he himself had witnessed.
How could he stand there and pretend their situation made any real difference?
They could have hidden. They could have stolen moments. Even something small, something secret, would have been enough for her.
The maids returned while she was rinsing the last garment.
Without a word, without even looking at her, they lifted the clean clothes from the basin and dumped them onto the ground beside it. The damp fabric hit the dirt, and dark soil clung instantly, staining the cloth she had just finished washing.
Xiao Zhi froze.
Her hands remained submerged in the basin, fingers tightening around the cloth. She closed her eyes and counted her breaths.
When she opened them again, her gaze was steady.
They picked the wrong woman. And the wrong time.
"Please pick them up," she said evenly. "And wash them again."
One of the maids scoffed. "You washed them wrong."
"They were clean."
"They are dirty now," the maid replied, folding her arms. "Wash them yourself."
Xiao Zhi straightened slowly. Water dripped from her hands, splashing softly onto the stone.
"I did," she said, meeting the woman's eyes. "That is why I am asking."
The maid stepped closer, too close to her.
"You are not in a position to ask," she said coolly.
Xiao Zhi lifted her head. "Move."
The maid laughed, sharp and dismissive. "Still giving orders? You should've learned by now. Even Hua has forgotten you."
Xiao Zhi's brow knitted. "What do you mean?"
The maid tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Oh? You haven't heard?"
The other maids nearby slowed, listening.
"The handsome General of Hua," she continued lightly. "General Shen Han. He married your sister."
The words landed like stone.
Already?
"I heard he used to be your lover," the maid added with a smirk. "Guess he chose a crown princess over someone… disposable."
"They say he's very happy," another maid chimed in. "A devoted husband." She leaned closer, a knowing smirk forming on her face. "A passionate lover."
"Strange, isn't it?" the first maid said. "You were sent away, and he didn't even look back."
Xiao Zhi's fingers curled slowly at her sides.
General Shen Han. Married. Happy.
So another cliché had played out. The discarded lover.
The words echoed in her mind, overlapping, refusing to settle into something she could process.
The story kept moving forward.
Her thoughts jumped backward.
The letter.
The one she had written to Shen Han. The one she had entrusted to Ruhan with both hands, believing foolishly, that some things could still reach across borders.
She remembered waiting. Days at first. Then weeks. Telling herself travel took time. That duty consumed men like him.
But there had been nothing.
No reply. No word.
Now the truth slid into place with brutal clarity.
Had he already chosen her sister when her letter arrived?
Or worse… had he read it, folded it away, and decided she was no longer worth answering?
Her chest tightened.
Did he really forget about me?
The maid's voice drifted back, sharp and smug. Xiao Zhi barely heard it.
"Hey," the maid snapped. "Are you deaf now?"
Before she could respond, the maid raised her hand.
It never came down.
A sleeve caught her wrist midair.
"How dare you," a voice said sharply, "raise your hand to a princess?!"
Ruhan stood between them.
His grip was firm but restrained, fingers locked around the maid's wrist with just enough pressure to stop her. His expression was calm, almost blank.
His eyes were not.
The maid froze, then yanked her hand free, face filled with anger. "She is not a princess anymore," she snapped. "You forgot your place, eunuch."
Ruhan did not raise his voice. "You forgot yours."
The maid sneered. "Since when do you decide who is and is not a princess?"
"I do not," Ruhan replied. "But the Khan does."
The name settled the air.
Ruhan turned slightly, not taking his eyes off her. "And I will make sure he hears exactly what you just said."
Another maid grabbed her sleeve, whispering urgently, panic threading her voice. "Stop. Do not mess with him. He is the Khan's personal eunuch."
The maid's face drained of color.
She stepped back. Then another step. Finally, she turned away without a word. The other maid followed her.
The courtyard emptied quickly. Ruhan exhaled once, then turned to Xiao Zhi.
"Are you hurt?"
She stared at him.
Her anger was too tangled for words. Too knotted with frustration and things she didn't want to feel. There were too many things she wanted to say, or perhaps scream at him instead.
"Why are you doing this work again?" Ruhan asked, picking up the fallen clothes and dropping them back into the basin. "Didn't the Khan tell you you don't have to?"
And did he even know that? Did he ask around? Asked the Khan himself?
"I like it. Why do you care?" she snapped.
"Princess—"
"You just said I am a princess," she cut in.
"Yes."
"Then finish the laundry."
Ruhan frowned slightly, as if he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.
"…What?"
Xiao Zhi turned fully toward him now. Her expression was cold as ice.
"You're a servant." She gestured toward the basin with a small tilt of her chin. "So finish it."
The words struck harder than she intended, or maybe exactly as hard as she meant them to.
Ruhan went still.
For a moment, he looked like someone caught between two instincts: to obey or to argue.
He stared at the basin.
Then at her.
Then back at the basin again, as if hoping the meaning might change if he looked long enough.
"...Wait," he said, stepping forward half a step. "That's not what I meant."
Xiao Zhi didn't answer.
She turned away before he could say anything else, her back straight, her steps steady. She did not look back. She did not slow.
Behind her, Ruhan remained where he was, watching her leave.
The distance between them was heavier than it had been before.