The dim glow of evening lanterns cast flickering shadows across the silk-lined walls of Prince Hanyu's quarters. He sat alone in his study, fingers tracing the rim of a delicate porcelain teacup, his gaze unfocused. Outside, the low murmur of servants and distant sounds of the palace night watch drifted through the quiet air.
Hanyu's expression was unreadable, yet his mind was a storm of unspoken thoughts. The rumors about Lady Yanli had spread faster than he anticipated, even reaching his personal attendants and close allies within the court. He had expected resistance from Yanli, maybe even a public response to save her honor—but the silence from her end only seemed to fuel the scandal further.
"Hmph," he muttered to himself, a slight smirk playing at his lips. "If she won't speak, then the kingdom will draw its own conclusions. And it won't be favorable to her."
Yet, beneath his confident exterior, Hanyu felt a pang of discomfort he couldn't quite place. Memories from earlier days surfaced unbidden—the nights when he and Yanli had exchanged whispered conversations in the palace gardens, the fleeting moments he'd thought of her as his equal. She had been unlike the others—fiery, unafraid to challenge him, and certainly unwilling to bow to anyone, least of all to him. He once admired her spirit, that unbreakable fire in her eyes, so rare among noblewomen, especially those who vied for his favor.
But when she had broken the engagement, it was as if something within him had cracked. The woman he thought he controlled slipped from his grasp with a single decision. Her rejection was a bruise to his pride, one he could not ignore. Worse still, she had chosen silence over him, denying him the satisfaction of a response. He knew that such silence, such disregard, could be more cutting than the sharpest words.
He chuckled bitterly, whispering to himself, "Did you truly believe you could leave unscathed, Yanli?"
As if on cue, a soft knock sounded at the door, and Hanyu's personal attendant, Shen, entered, bowing low. "Your Highness, I have news from Lady Yanli's residence."
Hanyu set down his teacup, raising an eyebrow. "Speak."
"Her household remains silent, my prince. There is no statement to counter the rumors, nor any effort to defend her name."
Hanyu frowned slightly, his fingers tapping against the lacquered table. "She's taking the rumors quietly?" he murmured, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. This silence was beginning to irritate him; it was as if she didn't even consider his efforts worthy of acknowledgment.
Shen hesitated before adding, "There are whispers among the servants that Lady Yanli's silence may be a tactic. Some speculate she is planning to use the kingdom gathering to shift the narrative."
Hanyu's gaze darkened. Yanli's audacity was never-ending; of course, she would attempt to leverage the kingdom gathering, where she could present herself directly before the nobility and turn the public eye in her favor. The notion of her succeeding in such a move grated at him. Hanyu could feel his hold on the situation slipping, and he despised it.
But then another thought struck him—one that brought a slight spark to his dark eyes. What if he could use her silence against her, heightening the rumors even further? If he could entangle her in scandal and doubts, any attempt at redemption on her part might look desperate and forced.
A slow smile crept across his face. "Shen," he said smoothly, his tone edged with cold amusement, "send word to Lady Lian."
Shen blinked in surprise but quickly recovered. "As you wish, Your Highness."
Lady Lian. She had once been the woman Hanyu imagined by his side, before Yanli had captivated his attention with her wit and grace. Lady Lian, beautiful and cunning, was as willing to serve as she was to scheme—a perfect partner for Hanyu's current intentions. If he could give the court a believable display of his heartbreak, wrapped in Lady Lian's sympathetic presence, then he might not only tarnish Yanli's reputation but fortify his own as the 'wronged prince.'
As Shen left to relay his orders, Hanyu leaned back, his mind calculating each step. Lady Lian's loyalty was unwavering, and she understood the necessity of his ambitions. She had loved him once—perhaps still did—but he knew her loyalty wasn't born of affection alone. It was survival, driven by her own desire to stand beside a man of power, a future emperor. A man he fully intended to become.
Moments later, the delicate shuffle of footsteps echoed down the hall, and Lady Lian entered, bowing gracefully. She was dressed in soft hues of violet, a contrast to her usual bolder colors. Hanyu noticed how her dark eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, a mixture of devotion and curiosity.
"My prince," she greeted, her voice soft and honeyed, "to what do I owe the honor?"
"Lian," Hanyu replied, his voice smooth, "I need your help with a rather delicate matter."
She arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Anything you require, I am at your disposal."
"There have been… unfortunate rumors about Lady Yanli's reputation," Hanyu said, watching her reaction carefully. "Rumors that could, perhaps, be expanded upon."
Lady Lian's eyes flickered with understanding, a trace of satisfaction dancing across her face. "Ah, the whispers of her impropriety, I assume? Many have already heard that she has met another man and that your own heart was wounded by her rejection."
Hanyu's gaze darkened at the mention of his supposed heartbreak, but he let the pretense slide. "Precisely. I would like to amplify these whispers, ensuring that they reach all corners of the kingdom. It is important that my position as the wronged party is solidified."
Lady Lian inclined her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You wish to present yourself as the devoted prince, betrayed by a wayward woman. It's a role you play well, Your Highness."
He chuckled, leaning back. "I am prepared to play whatever role the people wish to see. But I will not tolerate her silence any longer. It is an affront."
Lian's expression softened, though there was a calculating gleam in her eyes. "Then perhaps… I could be of some assistance, as I once was. Our connection could be made more public, allowing your supporters to witness your… healing."
Hanyu nodded, pleased. "Yes, precisely. Make sure the court sees it. Let them pity me and question her."
Lady Lian smiled, her loyalty unmistakable. "Consider it done, my prince."
Hanyu's smirk widened, satisfaction coursing through him. Yanli might think herself clever, but he would not let her control the narrative. With Lady Lian by his side, he would tarnish Yanli's reputation so thoroughly that even the purest intentions would appear false.
As Lady Lian exited, Hanyu allowed himself a moment of triumph, but a small, nagging thought lingered. Despite everything, he couldn't shake the memory of Yanli's resolute gaze, the fire she held even as she ended their engagement. She hadn't bowed to him; she had refused to yield to his control, even at the cost of her own standing.
For the first time, a flicker of regret crossed his mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. Regret had no place in his world. His path was clear—he would rise to the throne, and no one, not even Yanli, would deter him.
As he looked out at the evening sky, Hanyu clenched his fists. His ambitions demanded sacrifice, and he would pay any price to claim the throne that was rightfully his.