Chapter 4: The prince
Bow? Hua Jing stared at the maid like she'd grown two heads. "Bow?" she whispered under her breath, her voice dripping with disbelief. She was from a world where she bowed to no one—except maybe to accept an award, and even then, it was more of a graceful incline of her head.
Now this girl was telling her to bow to a man. A man who, by some twisted logic, was supposedly her husband?
Absolutely not.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the man in question entered the room. Hua Jing's eyes widened the moment she saw him.
He was tall. Much taller than she had expected. His presence filled the small room, the faint scent of sandalwood and something crisp trailing after him. He moved with the kind of regal authority that made the air feel heavier, and his dark robes only added to the effect.
But it wasn't his height or his demeanor that drew her attention. It was the mask.
A finely crafted mask covered the upper half of his face, its intricate designs glinting faintly in the candlelight. Hua Jing's thoughts swirled. Why a mask? Was he hiding a disfigurement? A scar? Or... was he just one of those people who liked theatrics?
Still, she couldn't deny the rest of him looked annoyingly perfect. His jawline was sharp, his lips well-formed, and his posture screamed elegance. Her annoyance flared. Why would someone so tall and... irritatingly well-put-together hide behind a mask?
"Hua Jing!" her maid hissed in a low whisper, snapping her out of her thoughts. The girl's subtle signs weren't so subtle anymore—she was practically throwing herself into bowing gestures, urging Hua Jing to follow suit.