Chapter 12: The Wedding night (PART 2)
The cold air in the prince's private chamber was almost suffocating. Zhao Yan sat by the open window, his mask discarded on the desk beside him. His piercing gaze was fixed on the snow-covered courtyard, his expression unreadable, yet the rigid set of his shoulders betrayed his inner turmoil.
Wei Ling entered quietly, bowing deeply before speaking. "Your Highness," he began, his tone measured. "Tonight is the wedding night. Should I make the necessary preparations for your visit to Lady Hua's chambers?"
Zhao Yan didn't respond immediately. His eyes remained on the courtyard, the silence stretching long enough for Wei Ling to feel a prickle of unease.
Then, the prince laughed.
It wasn't a warm laugh; it was cold, sharp, and laced with something unspoken. Zhao Yan finally turned to Wei Ling, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk.
"If I don't go," he said, his voice low and calculating, "those who are watching will definitely make a move."
Wei Ling nodded slightly, his understanding immediate. There were always eyes on the crown prince, and Zhao Yan's every action—or inaction—was meticulously analyzed. If he refused to consummate the marriage, the rumors would spread like wildfire, and those hungry for power would use it as a weapon against him.
Still, Wei Ling couldn't shake the question that had lingered in his mind since the marriage was arranged. "Your Highness," he ventured cautiously, "why Lady Hua?"
Zhao Yan's smirk faded, his gaze hardening.
"There were many noble ladies, all of impeccable reputation, any one of whom would have made a suitable seventh consort," Wei Ling continued. "Yet, you chose her. Lady Hua... she's different."
Zhao Yan's expression darkened slightly. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. "You're not wrong," he admitted. "She's different. Too different."