SLAP!
The sharp crack of skin meeting skin resounded like thunder across the imperial hall. The silence that followed was more deafening than the blow itself.
Crown Prince Ace staggered slightly, the force of the slap turning his head sideways. A faint red mark quickly bloomed across his cheek. He clenched his jaw and bowed his head, swallowing his pride, his shame, and the bitter taste of failure all at once.
"Stupid!" Emperor Jun's roar was undercut with wrath so cold it could freeze blood. His tightly clenched fists trembled, and the veins on his temples bulged. "Your imperial grandfather gifted you with something invaluable, and you spat on it!"
It was not Lily that the emperor mourned. No — it was what she represented: the Pei family's millions of loyal, elite soldiers, an unshakable shield and blade for whoever married into their bloodline. That was the true treasure lost.
Empress Yen stood quietly at the side, her hands folded tightly in front of her, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wanted to speak, to offer even a word of comfort to her son, but she knew better. This was a matter of power and legacy — not maternal sympathy.
Crown Prince Ace remained silent, shoulders tense, shame carving deep lines into his youthful face.
"I told you," Emperor Jun continued, pacing in agitation. "I told you countless times — I don't care if you take concubines after marriage. I don't care if you drown yourself in wine and women later! But your first time should have belonged to her. That was your duty! If not out of love, then out of political sense. Yet you couldn't even restrain yourself until marriage!"
He whirled toward his empress, then stopped himself — remembering that this outburst was meant for his son alone.
"And worst of all," he sneered, "if you had at least kept it quiet, she might've never found out. But no — you were seen with that little viper from the Prime Minister's house, parading around the city as though daring the heavens to smite you!"
Emperor Jun's disappointment began to bleed into disdain. In his eyes, his heir was no longer a crown prince — just a boy who had thrown away an empire's future for a fleeting pleasure.
"The Prime Minister's daughter…" the emperor muttered darkly. "Such a schemer. Seducing the heir to the throne? Does her family think I will let this insult slide?" His gaze turned colder. "Let her enter your palace then — as a concubine."
The word landed like a hammer blow.
A concubine held no true standing in the imperial court. A plaything, nothing more — her bloodline forever marked as lesser. And the Prime Minister, who likely plotted to raise his daughter's status, would now suffer a public humiliation.
Crown Prince Ace's throat tightened, but he said nothing. There was no room for excuses.
Emperor Jun flicked his sleeves and turned, voice still thunderous. "Enough. Since this son is a disappointment, perhaps I must reconsider which of my sons is truly worthy of the throne."
The head eunuch rushed to follow him, his expression unreadable.
The heavy silence lingered long after the emperor stormed out.
---
The Next Morning – Imperial Capital
Chaos reigned throughout the capital like wildfire in a dry forest.
A golden decree, sealed with the imperial dragon sigil, had been posted on the palace gates and read aloud by heralds in every major district. The engagement between Crown Prince Ace and the Pei family's young miss was officially annulled.
The emperor's words were filled with formality and apology, but every line cut deeper than a blade. He emphasized his profound regret at the crown prince's misconduct, placing the blame squarely on his own son's shoulders.
To the common people, this was unprecedented.
Everyone knew of the Pei family's uncompromising standards. Their disdain for husbands taking concubines, their preference for spotless reputations — it was legendary. And yet, the crown prince had dared to walk hand-in-hand with the Prime Minister's daughter in broad daylight? He might as well have declared the empire's shame himself.
Even worse, the scandal not only crushed the reputation of the heir, but also obliterated the Prime Minister's political standing. His once-cherished daughter was now the centerpiece of court gossip, her name whispered with pity and scorn.
---
Meanwhile, at the Prince's Estate
Hugo lounged in his study, wine glass in hand, as his shadow guard finished the latest report.
"The emperor has announced in secret," the guard said in a low voice, "that whichever of his sons captures Young Miss Pei's heart… shall become the next Emperor."
Hugo laughed — a rich, amused sound that echoed through the garden-facing hall.
"So now he's turned matchmaking into a succession war?" he said dryly. "Brilliant. Truly the most inspired decision of his reign."
Shadow Guard Loid inclined his head. "It seems His Majesty believes that Miss Pei's affections are the only path to obtaining the Pei family's armies… since chastity is no longer an option."
Hugo set his wine down with a soft clink and rose to his feet. He stepped to the tall windows, gazing out into the sculpted serenity of his personal gardens.
"Poor brother," Hugo murmured. "Had I been born just a few years early, I might've not spared him this throne."
There was no venom in his voice — only a tired amusement. A man who had given up the throne, only to watch fools ascend in his place.
"You still have a chance to fight for it," Loid said, voice neutral yet firm.
Hugo didn't answer immediately. He swirled his wine lazily, watching how the light refracted through the liquid. Then he smiled.
"My heart," he said quietly, "has long since been captured — but not by the throne."
Loid raised an eyebrow.
"From the day I first saw her — that tiny, newborn child in swaddling cloth — I was bewitched," Hugo continued, tone soft, almost reverent. "I wanted to raise her myself, to shield her from the rot of this world. Later… I wanted to make her mine. Not in the way of possession, but of belonging."
Loid nodded. He knew this already. After all, he had been the one sent to observe her, to report on her life. Every festival she attended, every friend she made, every sparring match she won.
But even with years of carefully plotted moves, Miss Pei barely spared the prince more than a fleeting glance.
Hugo turned, his expression thoughtful. "Do I look old to you?"
The question caught Loid off guard. He blinked. "Our prince is unmatched in bearing. Elegant, refined, noble — the dream of every maiden in the empire."
A proud smile began to tug at Hugo's lips.
"…However," Loid added ruthlessly, "if viewed from Miss Pei's perspective… you may come across as more of a dignified uncle."
Silence.
Hugo's eyes narrowed. "Go to Spirit Spring Mountain. Train for five days."
Loid sighed. "This servant merely spoke the truth."
"Go!"
"Yes, Your Highness," Loid muttered as he vanished into shadow, already disappearing into the horizon.
Hugo sat back down, sipping his wine with narrowed eyes. His reflection shimmered faintly in the liquid.
"Am I really that old to her?" he muttered to himself.
He wasn't sure if he should feel amused… or insulted.