Chapter 16: The Prince Behind the Crown

The moonlight softened the edge of Anhai's shadow as she paced the outer courtyard of her residence. The evening air was cooler here, tinged with distant incense and the quiet flutter of banners. Her attendants had been dismissed hours earlier. She needed stillness. Or perhaps, courage.

A rustle from the stone path caught her attention.

He didn't announce himself. He never did.

The Crown Prince stood there, half-lit by lantern glow, the jade clasp of his belt catching the light like a cold star. In formal robes still—deep green trimmed in silver—though his hair had been loosened slightly, signaling the end of his court obligations.

"Your Highness," Anhai greeted, bowing low.

"Rise," he said, his tone perfectly neutral.

She obeyed, head tilted, watching him from under her lashes. There was a pause—long enough to feel like a test.

"This courtyard is unguarded," he finally said, voice quiet but cool. "Your attendants should not leave you alone. You are the Crown Princess now."

"I dismissed them," Anhai replied, calmly. "I needed air. The chambers are… stifling."

He didn't move. "The palace is built to be stifling."

A silence stretched between them again.

She tried. "You haven't spoken to me since the ceremony."

"There was nothing that required words."

Her chest tightened—humiliation, yes, but more than that, understanding. He was a man raised on restraint, in a world where warmth could be a weapon. This was not rejection. It was training.

"Then allow me," she said, voice measured. "I would like to understand the man who will share my life, even if he never shares my heart."

That earned her a glance—brief, but the first one that truly saw her.

"You are different from what I expected," he said at last.

"And what did you expect?"

"A porcelain doll. Or a snake."

She tilted her head. "And which am I?"

"Too early to say."

A corner of her mouth lifted. "Then I will try to be a sword."

He paused, a ghost of amusement on his lips. "A dangerous choice for a bride."

"Not if she holds the blade toward the enemies of the crown."

He studied her. The tension between them had shifted—still formal, but no longer cold. An understanding was beginning to take shape.

"The Emperor chose you," he said finally. "That means something."

"It means," Anhai said, "I must succeed."

He nodded once. Then, without another word, he turned and walked back into the corridor shadows.

And this time, she didn't feel alone.