You don't have to lash out at me for your own insecurities.

Silence.

A thick, suffocating silence wrapped around the banquet hall like an invisible force.

Every guest, every noble, every servant—staring.

No one could quite process what they had just heard.

Husband.

Did she just…?

Some hands flew to cover gasping mouths. Others darted wide-eyed glances at each other, hoping someone else would explain this madness.

A prince?

This man?

The one holding Hua Jing so effortlessly, his features sharpened like a masterpiece under the lantern lights?

This devastatingly handsome man?

The Prince Zhao Yan?

It couldn't be.

Could it?

Someone gulped loudly.

The rumors—

Hadn't the prince been described as hideous? A man whose face was supposedly mangled beyond recognition?

Yet here he was, standing tall and untouched by flaw, the light catching the smooth planes of his face, his piercing eyes sharp enough to cut through steel.