Morning.
The gentle rhythm of knocking broke through the silence like soft raindrops tapping paper screens.
> "Princess, please wake up. I brought a hanfu for you," a soft voice called from behind the door.
I stirred beneath the quilt, the warmth reluctant to let me go. Slivers of golden morning light filtered through the wooden lattice, painting delicate patterns across the floor. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, voice still thick with drowsiness.
> "Come in."
The door slid open with a quiet rustle, and a maid entered, her steps light and respectful. She bowed low, then straightened and held out the hanfu—an exquisite ensemble of flowing silk, dyed in the colors of early dawn. The embroidered cranes and peonies shimmered as light touched them, their threads glinting like dew over petals.
I rose slowly. With her help, I slipped into the hanfu. The fabric hugged my frame with a whisper of softness, the sleeves draping like clouds. My fingers brushed the embroidery as if to steady myself against the weight of beauty... or something else.
Elsewhere. In Crown Prince Lóngzi's chambers.
The prince stood near the open window, breeze stirring his dark robe, his gaze distant.
The door opened.
He turned, calm and poised.
> "Lei Zi, what brings you here?"
((Lei Cong—known simply as Lei Zi—stood straight as a blade. The crown prince's most trusted guard, loyal as shadow, sharp as steel. In a palace built on whispers and shifting loyalties, he was one of the few constants.))
> "I came to deliver this letter, Master," Lei Zi said, holding it out.
Lóngzi took the letter, turning it in his hand as his brows lowered slightly.
> "From whom?"
> "Grand Master," came the clipped reply.
He waited, gaze probing. Lei Zi offered no further detail. Silence hovered—comfortable only for one of them.
And then Lei Zi's sharp eyes flicked to the red mark just beneath the prince's collar.
> "Master, what's that on your neck? It looks like a… red spot."
Lóngzi's fingers drifted up to touch it, the corner of his lips curling with the faintest smirk.
> "Just a minor scrape."
Lei Zi gave a nod, stepping back toward the door.
> "Alright, Master. I'll take my leave. Take care."
> "Take care," Lóngzi echoed, distracted.
But Lei Zi paused at the threshold, mischief glinting in his usual stoic eyes.
> "Oh, don't worry, Master. Take care of the one who gives you these… red spots."
The door slid shut behind him before Lóngzi could respond. His faintly flushed face turned back to the window, a smile tugging at his lips.
Outside my room, the corridor was quiet. I stepped out, the hem of my hanfu brushing across the polished stone floor. A breeze stirred the trailing ribbons at my waist.
Then—
> "You're looking gorgeous, my princess."
The voice was unmistakable.
I stopped in my tracks, turned. Bai Long leaned against a pillar, arms folded across his chest, eyes smoldering with that unshakable audacity.
My face hardened.
> "This hanfu looks very beautiful on you," he said, his gaze never leaving mine.
I moved to walk past him, pretending not to hear.
> "Good morning, my princess."
That name. My steps stopped short. I spun toward him.
> "Stop calling me that. I am not your princess," I snapped.
But his grin only widened.
> "Yes, you are. If you don't believe me, then see— you gave me a love bite last night."
A hot wave of shock crashed over me.
> "What?! Are you kidding me?" My voice rose in disbelief, eyes wide as heat crept into my cheeks.
He chuckled, utterly shameless.
> "Of course not. If you still don't believe me, see this— the love bite on your neck is from me."
My hand flew to my throat. The soft throb beneath my fingers confirmed it—the mark I had tried to ignore when I dressed.
A memory flickered. The warmth of his breath against my skin, the sound of the night folding around us, the loss of control.
My stomach sank. If someone else sees this…
> "You shouldn't have—this can't happen again."
> "Why not?" His tone lowered, no longer teasing. "Because someone might find out? Or because you're afraid of what you feel?"
The words struck too close. I looked away.
I couldn't answer. I didn't want to.