Chapter 68: Armor
I wake up and know immediately what day it is.
Saturday.
The gala is tonight.
My phone says it’s 8:47 AM, which means I have approximately ten hours before I need to leave, ten hours to prepare for facing Feifei and Xue Lian and every elite spouse who’s going to be watching me like I’m tonight’s entertainment.
Great.
I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, and register that Bael’s side of the bed is already empty.
Cold.
He’s been leaving earlier than usual this week and coming home later, working in his office instead of the home one.
We’ve barely spoken since Monday morning when he told me not to come to his office on a whim.
Four days of carefully polite distance, four days of me eating breakfast alone, spending days in various rooms avoiding places that remind me of him, going to bed before he gets home.
Four days of proving to myself that I don’t need his attention, his care, his anything.
It’s fine.
Everything is fine.
I get up and head to the bathroom.
Shower first. Long and hot, the kind that turns the whole room into steam, washing away the remnants of sleep and the tight knot of anxiety that’s been living in my chest since I saw Feifei’s name on that guest list.
By the time I step out, I feel slightly more human. I wrap a towel around my waist and stare at my reflection in the mirror, same face I’ve had for months now.
Still strange sometimes, seeing features that aren’t quite mine, a body that feels borrowed even though I’ve been living in it long enough that I should be used to it by now.
My hand goes to my stomach automatically.
It’s still flat.
The baby is there though, growing, real, the entire reason this marriage exists.
The entire reason I’m going to this gala as Bael Wuchen’s spouse instead of... I don’t know. Dead in my old world? Still struggling in some other life?
I shake my head and leave the bathroom.
The outfit is already laid out.
I did that last night, hung everything carefully so it wouldn’t wrinkle, and arranged the accessories on the dresser in the order I’d put them on.
Preparation as ritual. Armor disguised as clothing.
I get dressed slowly, methodically, each piece added with deliberate care.
The deep navy fabric fits perfectly, tailored to my frame in a way that makes me look taller, more put-together, more like someone who belongs in rooms full of people who were born into this kind of wealth.
The jacket goes on next, structured but modern, the cut sharp enough to make a statement without trying too hard.
Shoes.
Watch.
The emerald bag I bought at Ciel Brillant, the gender-neutral one that somehow pulls the whole thing together.
I check myself in the full-length mirror.
Not bad.
Actually... pretty good.
I look like I know what I’m doing.
Like I’m not terrified of walking into a room where my sister will see me for the first time since I destroyed her engagement.
Like I’m not worried about Xue Lian and whatever game he’s planning to play tonight.
Like I belong.
Fake it till you make it, right?
My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
I pick it up.
Mrs. Zhou: *Good morning Runze! Just confirming you’re still coming tonight? The venue is absolutely beautiful, you’re going to love it.*
Me: *Yes, still coming. Looking forward to it.*
Lie.
But a polite one.
Mrs. Zhou: *Wonderful! I’ll see you at 7. And don’t worry about anything, you’re going to do great.*
The message sits there, oddly reassuring even though she has no idea what I’m actually worried about.
I set the phone down and take one more look in the mirror.
This is it, this is as ready as I’m going to be.
I head downstairs and find Grandmother in the sitting room, already dressed for her own evening plans, looking elegant in a way that seems effortless even though I know it’s not.
She glances up when I enter, her gaze tracking over my outfit with that assessing look she always has.
"You look well," she says finally.
"Thank you, Grandmother."
"The gala is at 7?"
"Yes."
"And you’re prepared?"
I don’t know how to answer that.
Am I prepared to face Feifei?
To see Xue Lian?
To navigate a room full of people who already have opinions about me?
"As much as I can be," I say instead.
She nods once, seeming satisfied with that answer.
"Remember," she says, setting down her tea, "you are a Wuchen now. Whatever happened before, whoever you were before, none of that matters in that room tonight. You represent this family. Act accordingly."
The words should feel like pressure.
Instead, they feel almost... grounding.
Right.
I’m a Wuchen.
Whether I chose it or not, whether I deserve it or not, that’s what I am now.
And tonight, that’s all anyone needs to see.
"I will, Grandmother."
"Good."
She goes back to her tea and I excuse myself, heading back upstairs because I still have hours to kill before I need to leave and sitting in the same room as Grandmother’s sharp assessment feels like too much right now.
I end up in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand.
No new messages.
Nothing from Bael.
Not that I expected anything.
He’s been... distant. Polite when we cross paths, but distant.
Like he’s already moved on from whatever those few days of gentleness were.
Like he’s remembered that this is a business arrangement and I’m just the omega carrying his heir.
My chest feels tight again and I push the thought away.
Not thinking about Bael right now.
Not thinking about what any of his behavior means or doesn’t mean.
Tonight is about surviving the gala.
Everything else can wait.
I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and try to make the hours pass faster through sheer force of will.