Chapter 3: Misunderstanding

Evelyn had been thoroughly exhausted over the past few days. Even though her coughing woke her tonight, drowsiness still weighed heavily on her. In her dazed state, she suddenly saw a hand extending toward her through the gap in the curtains...

Startled out of her mind, Evelyn turned pale with fear and frantically began shaking the brass bell.

Dew, who was keeping night watch outside the bedroom, assumed something catastrophic had occurred inside. Dispensing with proper etiquette, she pushed open the door and rushed in.

"Your Highness, what happened?"

Dew lit the lamps, instantly illuminating the bedroom with a bright, warm glow. She stood at the doorway with a face full of anxiety, only to see Evelyn pressing one hand against her chest while her other hand tightly clutched the red silk ribbon tied to the bell.

The crimson bed curtains had already been pulled aside. Evelyn raised her eyes in panic, only to discover Arthur holding a teacup, looking thoroughly bewildered.

As her mind cleared, she realized she had been sleep-dazed. This was no longer her royal palace in Shu, nor was that hand belonging to some villain—it was Arthur's hand.

Once the terror subsided, a faint sense of melancholy washed over her, followed by another round of muffled coughing.

Dew understood immediately—the princess was having another coughing fit. She promptly pulled out a vial of licorice pills she kept on her person and handed one over. "The weather has grown even chillier over the past few days. No wonder Your Highness is coughing again. In a moment, I will fetch a thicker quilt for you."

Evelyn nodded, taking the licorice pill and holding it in her mouth.

Just as Dew turned to pour water, Arthur had already extended the teacup in his hand toward Evelyn.

The man possessed large hands with long, defined fingers. Resting between his fingers, the small teacup appeared significantly smaller than usual.

Evelyn hesitated, intending to decline, but the bitterness of the licorice pill in her mouth was truly unbearable. She accepted the cup after all and took a few delicate sips.

"Thank you."

Arthur stood straight beside the canopy bed with his head lowered, overlooking her entirely from above. Having removed her lavish hair ornaments, Evelyn's dark, silky hair cascaded smoothly down her shoulders like a shining waterfall. Bathed in the warm glow of the candlelight, her delicate and fragile demeanor created a faint, deceptive illusion of gentle sweetness. Taking tiny, measured sips of water, she seemed lost in distant memories.

Arthur turned his head slightly. "No need to thank me. You were coughing incessantly; I couldn't sleep either."

Dew returned with a thicker quilt, placed it down, and quietly withdrew from the chamber.

Evelyn glanced sideways at him, looking like a defensive little hedgehog. "I was born with this ailment. It's not just tonight—I will cough like this every single night hereafter. If it disturbs the General's rest, you had best think of a solution as early as possible."

What solution could there be? Either continue listening to it, or move somewhere else to sleep. The latter was obviously out of the question.

With a face as stern as still water, Arthur reached out his hand to retrieve the empty teacup from Evelyn. "Finished? If you're finished, go to sleep."

The teacup had a narrow mouth and was quite small. As it was handed back and forth, the man's rough finger pressed lightly against Evelyn's hand.

Arthur's palm was perpetually warm, whereas in stark contrast, Evelyn's hands and feet were born ice-cold. Yet for reasons unknown, even though her fingertips were freezing, Arthur felt as if he had been singed by an unfamiliar flame, his heart thumping rapidly several times.

Evelyn jerked her hand back abruptly, casting a vigilant glance at him.

Arthur assumed she was merely feeling aversion toward him, indulging in her princessly fastidiousness once more. "Princess Anyang, I washed my hands."

While Evelyn did find him unrefined, she had not meant it that way this time; having Arthur press against her hand simply made her heart flutter in panic. She had no intention of explaining further to him, a proud smirk curling upon her lips. "The General thinks too much. You do not even sleep in the same bed as me; whether you washed them or not has nothing to do with me."

Arthur stood speechless for a moment. "...So I was just being overly sentimental?"

He held the teacup, staring down at Evelyn. The candle wick flickered gently, casting a small shadow from the woman's long eyelashes. Supporting herself on the bed with one hand, her exquisite, graceful figure lay on her side. The undulating curves of her waist, neck, hips, and arms reminded him of the rolling hills he had passed by during the campaign against the Realm of Wei a year ago.

She was indeed breathtakingly beautiful. Her frail, sickly state cleverly softened her inherent pride, making one simultaneously desire to tear her apart and to risk one's life to protect her. A woman like her seemed naturally capable of igniting every man's instinct for conquest. No wonder the ruler of Wei had repeatedly sought her hand in marriage from the King of Shu back then—and when rejected, had even mobilized troops against Shu.

Regrettably, those Wei troops had been intercepted halfway by Arthur and completely annihilated. Arthur couldn't help but wonder: with Princess Anyang's temperament, how long could she have survived under the thumb of that tyrannical ruler of Wei?

Evelyn had never been stared at by a man in such an intense manner before. Uncomfortable, she swiftly pulled the bed curtains closed with a crisp swoosh.

His thoughts pulled back to reality, Arthur set down the teacup, extinguished the light once more, and lay back down on his floor bedding.

He turned his head toward the blurred silhouette inside the bed curtains. "Have you had this illness for eighteen years?"

"Yes."

"Incurable?"

"It can only be kept at bay with medicine."

"Ah." After a pause, Arthur asked again, "Then how did you contract this illness?"

Arthur was not particularly curious by nature, yet tonight he felt a strange desire to know more details about her. Evelyn turned over on her side. "Even if the General knows, what difference would it make? You cannot cure it either."

Silence fell inside the bed curtains. Seeing that the woman on the bed had no desire to share the story with him, he did not press any further.

The three-day wedding leave passed quickly.

Upon returning to court, the Emperor did not revoke Arthur's military tally. Instead, while ordering him to keep a close eye on regional skirmishes across various territories, the Emperor also entrusted the Southern Imperial Encampment in the capital to Arthur for personal training.

The Southern Encampment was closest to the General's Estate, yet galloping there on horseback still took nearly an hour. At the fourth quarter of the Tiger hour (around 4:00 AM), Arthur set off from the estate. By the time he arrived at the Southern Encampment, Evelyn was only just leisurely waking up.

Her mother-in-law, Lady Wang, had entrusted her with managing the household, and over these past few days, she had been taking inventory of the storerooms. Seeing her princess grow noticeably thinner, Pearl could not help but feel heart-pained. "Does Your Highness still plan to continue the inventory this afternoon? There are still several trunks that haven't been moved into the storeroom yet. I see that the General Estate's storeroom is nearly packed full anyway—why don't we just leave those few trunks stacked in Ruyi Hall?"

"It's fine. I have other uses for the items inside those trunks."

In truth, the General Estate didn't possess an excessive amount of property. The task taking up most of her time was actually organizing the lavish dowry she had brought with her from Shu.

After taking a short afternoon nap, Dew entered to report that the Second Mistress from Chunxi Hall, who was previously in charge of household management, had arrived to handle the handover.

This year's autumn had arrived earlier than last year's. Following a bout of rain last night, the weather today had grown several degrees colder. By the time Evelyn finished conversing with the Second Mistress, the sun was already slanting toward the west.

Such weather was truly unsuited for venturing outdoors. Returning to her bedroom, Evelyn picked up her familiar carved hand-warmer, staring blankly out the window, her mind lost in unknown thoughts.

Meanwhile, Arthur had already set off from the Southern Encampment. Galloping swiftly on horseback through the night, the biting cold wind stung like whips against his ears.

While Arthur remained unfazed, his younger brother, Arthur Chengwu, found it somewhat unbearable. Holding the reins with one hand and covering an ear with the other, Chengwu spurred his horse forward to catch up with his elder brother's back. "Eldest Brother, getting married really changes a man! If this were before, you definitely would have stayed overnight at the camp. To rush all the way back in such cold autumn weather... once Sister-in-Law finds out, she'll surely be overjoyed!"

"Keep your mouth shut while riding, lest the north wind fills your belly before you even reach home."

Arthur cast a sharp side-glance at his third brother. Chengwu was only seventeen years old and lacked military merit, so he had been training under Arthur's guidance. He spoke without filter or decorum; if outsiders overheard him, it would inevitably invite teasing gossip about his eldest brother and sister-in-law.

After reprimanding him, Arthur still felt the need to explain the reasoning to his younger brother. "Princess Anyang and I have only recently wed. Even if the weather is freezing, I must return. With His Majesty above us and the Sovereign of Shu beyond our borders, if unfounded rumors spread that Princess Anyang and I are on bad terms, it will impact diplomatic relations between Great Da and Shu. What does an hour's ride matter compared to that?"

"That makes sense, but..." Chengwu looked astonished. "I thought you were rushing home because you couldn't bear to be away from Sister-in-Law. Eldest Brother, do you not like Princess Anyang?"

Like her?

Arthur had only seen Princess Anyang a handful of times. He could only say that he did not dislike her. To him, it was primarily a responsibility toward Great Da and Shu. Since Princess Anyang had become his wife, taking care of her was simply his duty as well. As for whether he liked her or not, he had never given it any thought.

Seeing Chengwu clutching his ears, Arthur deliberately poked at him. "What? Winter hasn't even arrived, and it's far from the coldest period—are you already giving up?"

"Who says I'm giving up? Eldest Brother, don't you know my horsemanship?" Unable to take the provocation, Chengwu clamped his legs against the horse's flanks, surging ahead by a horse's head in a burst of speed.

An hour later, the two brothers returned under the starlight, the sky having turned completely dark. As they halted in front of the main entrance, they found the second brother, Arthur Yanyan, waiting at the gates. Standing alone in the crisp autumn wind with an elegant, scholarly demeanor, he looked as though he had been waiting for a long time.

Arthur dismounted cleanly. "Why are you standing out here?"

Seeing his elder brother blanketed in cold night air, Yanyan stepped forward and offered a respectful greeting. "Eldest Brother, you've had a hard journey. I specifically waited out here for your return."

Handing the reins to the groom, the three brothers walked inside together.

Arthur asked, "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"...It's nothing major."

That meant there was something. Arthur knew his second brother well—he was ordinarily steady and cautious; unless something required attention, he wouldn't stand waiting in the freezing wind for his return.

Crossing the front veranda brought them to a junction. Beyond the moon gate lay separate courtyards for the three brothers. Seeing that they were about to part ways, Yanyan dismissed Chengwu, looked around carefully to ensure no one was listening, and finally opened his mouth toward his elder brother in awkward hesitation.

"Eldest Brother, you are built tall and formidable. At times, please remember to be a bit gentler with the Princess, lest she sends a family letter back to Shu to complain of grievances."

Arthur was left thoroughly bewildered.

Realizing his elder brother hadn't grasped his meaning, Yanyan laid his cards on the table.

"Today, my wife went to pay her respects to the Princess and happened to see Sister-in-Law's wrist... Eldest Brother, pardon my disrespect, but please look at the vast difference in size between you and the Princess. You are newly wedded and lack experience; at times, you really must be lighter on your hands."

Arthur stood utterly speechless.

Yanyan was the only civil official in the family, serving in the Court of Diplomatic Relations where he handled foreign affairs. He was accustomed to thinking deeply and paying strict attention to decorum and boundaries. Influenced by him, the Second Mistress was similarly observant of such matters.

Earlier today, while conversing with Evelyn, she had accidentally caught sight of the bruise on Evelyn's wrist. Evelyn's wrist was fair and slender, pure like mutton-fat jade, yet marred by an unfitting ring of blue-red bruising—a mark easily recognizable as being pinched forcefully by someone's hand. As for who caused it, the answer was obvious.

The Second Mistress mistakenly assumed that the Eldest Brother had treated Princess Anyang too roughly during their intimacy, leaving behind those marks. Considering both their status and the diplomatic relationship between Da and Shu, she had shared her concerns with her husband. Consequently, Yanyan felt compelled to come and advise his brother on matters of the marital bed.

Arthur opened his mouth to explain, yet found himself completely at a loss for words. After all, the fact that he and Princess Anyang were not even sharing the same bed was something that could not be revealed to anyone.

Chapter 4: The Princess's Sickness

Taking leave of his second younger brother, Edwin, Arthur walked with long, swift strides back toward Ruyi Hall. Before long, he could see the warm red lantern light glowing softly from the courtyard in the distance.

He was accustomed to living a simple life, having spent most of his recent years away on military campaigns rather than staying at home. In the past, aside from a single pageboy responsible for sweeping dust and locking the gates, Ruyi Hall had no other servants.

Now that Ruyi Hall had a mistress, however, the courtyard was considerably livelier than before.

In the courtyard, Pearl was directing pageboys as they carried buckets of hot water one by one. One boy stumbled clumsily, spilling nearly half a bucket of water right onto Pearl’s skirt. Pearl let out a startled gasp, inadvertently disturbing the person resting inside the room.

A window was pushed open, and Evelyn leaned her head out, only to be struck by a chilly draft that made her sneeze softly.

"Your Highness!" Pearl ignored her soaked skirts and rushed over to check on Evelyn. "Please take care of your health, Your Highness. We have the family banquet tomorrow, so you must not catch a chill!"

"Don't worry, I'm fine." Evelyn offered a faint smile. The tip of her nose was slightly flushed, and the bright moonlight broke into shimmering ripples within her expressive eyes, though her smile carried a gentle shade of melancholy.

Arthur lost himself for a fleeting moment before furrowing his brows in annoyance. Bathed every single day—was she not tired of the hassle? It was already late autumn, and winter would arrive in no time. This was precisely the season when people caught colds easily, making daily baths entirely unsuitable. Given her fragile body, if she fell ill, she would be the one suffering.

Stepping forward, he took the heavy water buckets from the pageboy’s hands and carried them toward the washroom as effortlessly as walking on level ground, quickly filling the large wooden tub to the brim.

Dismissing the pageboys, Arthur stood outside the window and asked, "Why are you bathing again today? Didn't you just wash yesterday?"

"Yesterday was yesterday, and today is today." Evelyn raised her delicate, charming chin slightly, her lips unadorned by rouge looking somewhat pale. "It has been my habit for years to bathe with fragrant incense before retiring to sleep. Back when I was in Shu, my Imperial Father specifically ordered hot spring water to be channeled directly to my princess manor simply because he knew how much I loved bathing."

Evelyn disliked Arthur questioning her about such matters. Was it not equivalent to asking why one needed to eat today if they had already eaten yesterday? Interrogating her over such trivial matters... She was no ordinary woman; having traveled a great distance for peace, could it be that a grand General’s Manor lacked even a single bucket of bathwater for her daily use?

"The night air is cold, so I shall close the window now. Pray suit yourself, General." Evelyn shut the wooden window, her ethereal voice drifting out from inside: "Pearl, come assist me with my bath."

Knowing her mistress was somewhat annoyed, Pearl quickly bowed toward Arthur and followed her inside. Arthur offered no explanation. Given the nature of their relationship, Princess Anyang would likely not believe any explanation he gave anyway, so he decided to let her indulge in her delicate quirks.

Having ridden hard on horseback through the night, he had expended considerable energy and had not yet eaten dinner. Earlier, while riding swiftly, he had not felt cold, but standing in the chilly courtyard for so long now made the sharp autumn cold seep through his clothes.

"Bull," Arthur called out. "Tell the kitchen to make a bowl of noodles and warm up a jug of yellow wine."

Bull nodded promptly and soon returned carrying a tray of hot food. From inside the washroom came the soft splashing of water accompanied by occasional faint voices. Though the conversation was muffled, fragments like "spoiled," "Shu," and "merely bathing" could be faintly heard.

Arthur could roughly guess what Evelyn and Pearl were discussing. He did not deny Evelyn’s words; truthfully speaking, her life in the General’s Manor was indeed far less luxurious and comfortable than back in Shu.

Pearl was dutiful, while Dew was clever and perceptive. Serving inside the main room and seeing Arthur’s stern, dark expression, Dew plucked up her courage and said timidly, "General, you... you have misunderstood our Princess. Please calm your anger and do not blame her."

Arthur merely thought Evelyn was overly particular, but he was not truly angry. It was just that when he wasn't smiling, he looked inherently fierce and cold. Setting down his wine cup, he asked, "You say I misunderstood? Misunderstood what?"

Dew lowered her head, replying respectfully, "In answer to the General: our Princess has been frail and sickly since childhood, suffering especially from a cold constitution. In the scorching heat of summer, she manages fine, but come autumn and winter, her hands and feet become icy cold, preventing her from sleeping through the night. Though she is of royal blood, she is by no means arrogant or domineering. In all the years she has been ill, she has never uttered a single complaint; even when suffering terribly, she would hide from the Emperor and Empress and weep in secret."

This came as a genuine surprise to Arthur. Recalling their wedding night when her eyes had turned red, he realized he must have genuinely hurt her when gripping her wrist. Dew continued, "The Princess’s illness cannot be cured. His Majesty pained for his daughter, and knowing that she could only sleep peacefully after soaking in a hot bath, he had hot spring water from the Eastern Mountains piped directly into her estate. That is how the Princess formed the habit—only after bathing and warming her limbs can she fall asleep at night."

So that was why. It turned out he had indeed misunderstood her. Arthur had assumed she was merely overly fastidious, never imagining there was such an underlying medical reason behind it.

Pearl’s voice echoed from the washroom: "Dew, the Princess has run out of rose hair oil. Please bring some more."

"Understood." Dew went to fetch the fragrant rose oil.

Arthur took another sip of yellow wine. The warm liquid flowed down his throat into his stomach, leaving a trail of soothing warmth from throat to abdomen as the rich aroma lingered. His entire body felt warm and comfortable; he had no concept of what it felt like to lie awake all night with icy limbs. Remembering how her fingertips had felt cool as fine jade when he touched them that night, his dark eyes narrowed in deep thought beneath the shadow of his lashes. "Bull," Arthur instructed, "pass down the word: starting tomorrow evening, light the underfloor heating flues in Ruyi Hall."

·

Crisp birdsong heralded the morning as the General’s Manor buzzed with activity. In previous years, due to volatile political situations and the fact that most men of the Shaw family were military commanders, gathering the entire family had been a rare luxury. Now that all the Shaw brothers were surprisingly together in the capital, the Dowager Lady, Mother Shaw, intended to host a grand family reunion banquet—which also marked the very first family event Evelyn was responsible for organizing.

At five in the afternoon, Arthur returned to the manor. Lord Shaw, Mother Shaw, along with their sons and daughters-in-law took their respective seats. The decorations in the reception hall had been completely refreshed, and the table featured a lavish array of dishes while adhering strictly to Lord Shaw’s distaste for wasteful extravagance. Lord Shaw and Mother Shaw exchanged pleasantly surprised glances at the hall’s elegant arrangement and plentiful spread, nodding repeatedly in approval.

"Thank you for your hard work, Princess," Mother Shaw said sincerely. "Apart from your second brother-in-law, everyone in our Shaw household is a rough soldier. In the past, we just gathered casually for a quick bite and called it a family dinner. It is thanks to the Princess's refined taste and elegance that we can all enjoy such a splendid feast today." Mother Shaw was not merely flattering her; she genuinely admired Evelyn's skill.

Evelyn smiled softly. "As I have said before, Mother may simply call me Evelyn instead of Princess."

Just as they were speaking, a sharp female voice echoed from outside the reception hall: "Eldest Brother, I heard from the housekeeper that there's a family banquet today. Why wasn't I invited?" A sturdy woman in her late forties with handsome facial features walked inside—this was Lord Shaw’s younger sister, Aunt Beatrice, accompanied closely by her son.

The moment they stepped into the hall, Beatrice’s son, Max, stared wide-eyed at the spread. "Oh my, look at all these dishes! This must have cost a fortune!" After speaking, he instinctively swallowed a mouthful of saliva. Beatrice quickly jabbed Max hard with her elbow, whispering sharply, "Keep your mouth shut! Look at where you are, acting like a barbarian." Max immediately withered, not daring to speak another word.

"Why have you come?" Lord Shaw asked, his voice grave.

"I simply came over to visit my eldest brother, of course." Beatrice had originally come to seek a marriage match for her husband’s niece, having heard that Arthur was surrounded by promising young military officers and hoping her powerful general nephew could introduce a few suitable suitors. Happening upon her brother's family banquet, she refrained from bringing up her request immediately.

Lord Shaw’s voice was solemn. "Since you are already here, take a seat together." All of Lord Shaw’s brothers had perished on battlefields, leaving only this single, useless younger sister. Though he disliked her behavior, he fulfilled his duty as an elder brother and ushered her family to sit down promptly.

Men and women sat on opposite sides of the long banquet tables. In a military household, strict rules were minimal; the family gathered together chatting familiarly, with Caleb animatedly describing the battle experiences he had shared with his eldest brother. Though Evelyn was ordinarily uninterested in rough military matters, hearing how Arthur had taken a heavily fortified city guarded by ten thousand soldiers with only eight hundred cavalrymen, she unconsciously listened intently, holding her breath during critical moments. She had to admit that Arthur was indeed a gifted military commander—it was merely a pity he was not serving under her father’s banner.

Everyone listened attentively with bated breath, except for one person who neither understood nor cared for military stories, unable to join the conversation and doing nothing but silently picking food with his chopsticks—Arthur’s cousin, Max. Max sat right below Arthur, directly across from Evelyn at a slight angle. Every time he raised his chopsticks, his eyes naturally caught sight of that mesmerizing, breathtaking face, causing his hands to freeze mid-air.

As he stared absentmindedly, a wine cup suddenly extended into his field of vision, blocking his view completely. "It has been a long time. Let me toast my cousin," Arthur said coldly. "I brewed this wine myself, so you must drink plenty of it."

Coming to his senses, Max realized his formidable general cousin was offering him a toast. Yet looking at Arthur’s dark expression, it felt less like a toast and more like a predatory wolf stepping out from a pitch-black cave, ready to devour him alive. Max’s hairs stood on end instantly; not daring to refuse, he bowed hurriedly in agreement. Arthur pushed aside Max's small wine cup, replacing it with a large, wide-rimmed bowl, pouring the strong liquor until it overflowed.

Max froze. Just as he was about to decline, he looked up and met a pair of dark, inscrutable eyes. That icy, razor-sharp gaze delivered a clear and terrifying warning: Drink whether you like it or not. Look at what you should, and keep your eyes off what you shouldn't. Feeling guilty, Max swallowed the large bowl of potent liquor with a sheepish expression, never daring to cast another glance at Evelyn for the rest of the meal.

The family banquet lasted for half an hour before Lord Shaw and Mother Shaw excused themselves to rest. Once her parents-in-law had departed, Evelyn felt no desire to stay and socialize further; having consumed some fruit wine, she felt drowsy and wished to leave. Rising to her feet, she was immediately supported by Pearl. "General Shaw, I am fatigued and shall return to my quarters first." Evelyn was not seeking his permission, but informing him.

She cast a faint, distant glance at Arthur, her natural regal arrogance making her appear like an ethereal goddess untainted by worldly dust. Arthur nodded in response: "Mm." He intended to walk back with her, stepping up to stand beside her. The two kept half a body's distance between them, their eyes never meeting.

Aunt Beatrice glanced sideways at them. She had already noticed subtle peculiarities at the dinner table, and now her suspicions were fully confirmed: these two did not look like a newlywed couple at all! Every detail betrayed a cold distance, looking more estranged than complete strangers. Looking at the tall, heroic Arthur and then remembering her husband’s young and beautiful niece, a startling idea suddenly crossed her mind.

Chapter 5: Out-Acting One Another

"We rarely gather like this—why leave so early? Could it be that the Princess finds our Great Xing dishes not to her taste? I noticed you barely touched a thing with your chopsticks."

Seeing Evelyn turn to leave, Aunt Beatrice stepped forward hastily and grabbed her sleeve.

Evelyn was just about to take a step when she felt a sudden tug on her sleeve. She lowered her eyes to find Aunt Beatrice holding onto her fast.

From the day she was born until now, no one had ever dared to treat her with such audacity.

This nominal aunt of Arthur’s truly lacked all sense of etiquette and boundaries.

The moment Aunt Beatrice made her move, the expressions of everyone else at the banquet table shifted, and the atmosphere instantly froze.

Evelyn’s face darkened. "Let go—"

Her voice was not loud, yet it resonated with overwhelming majesty. Those cold, delicate eyes, usually brimming with quiet shyness, were now filled with the aloofness and intimidating aura of a true sovereign.

Startled by her presence, Aunt Beatrice released her grip almost involuntarily, compelled by Evelyn's command.

However, she quickly regained her composure.

So what if she was a Princess of Shu? In the end, had she not married into the Shaw family as a daughter-in-law, destined to serve and please her tall, imposing nephew in bed?

A pampered princess from a fallen kingdom, married into the estate of an enemy general—what good end could she possibly expect?

Arthur did not even seem particularly fond of her anyway; what right did she have to put on such grand airs?

Aunt Beatrice forced a half-joking smile. "Niece-in-law, are you unhappy? I hear you addressing your own husband as 'General Shaw' this and 'General Shaw' that. It's only been a few days since the wedding—could it be that you and Arthur have already quarreled?"

Aunt Beatrice waited for Evelyn’s response, eager to see how she would squirm her way out of it.

To her surprise, Evelyn did not deign to offer her the slightest explanation. "What does that have to do with you?"

Aunt Beatrice choked for a moment. "I... I am Arthur’s aunt, which makes me your aunt as well. Naturally, I am asking out of concern for you both."

"Aunt?" Evelyn let out a cold laugh. "My aunt is the Grand Princess Royal of Shu. According to her habits, she should be fishing for autumn trout by the Lake of Unnamed Waters in Shu at this hour. As for you—"

Her words trailed off as her eyes swept up and down Aunt Beatrice, silently asking: Who do you think you are?

Aunt Beatrice’s face flushed red, then turned pale.

Just as she was about to snap back, Arthur stepped between the two women. With effortless naturalness, his hand swept around and encircled Evelyn’s waist.

"Aunt, His Majesty explicitly declared that when Princess Anyang married into the General’s Manor, she need not observe the etiquette of Great Xing and should simply maintain the customs of Shu. Pray do not question His Majesty's decree, Aunt, lest you bring trouble upon our estate."

Aunt Beatrice had not expected her nephew to suddenly intervene, much less invoke the Emperor’s own decree.

Having such a heavy accusation thrust upon her, she naturally dared not utter another word of protest.

Arthur turned his head slightly. "Evelyn, are you drunk?"

Evelyn?

Hearing the man address her so intimately, Evelyn found it strange and instinctively tried to break free from Arthur’s embrace.

Arthur exerted a firm pressure with his hand. To an onlooker, it appeared as though he were gently caressing his wife's waist, but he was actually signaling to her.

Before she could pull away, realization dawned on her.

She knew this nominal aunt was deliberately trying to make a fool of her, and Arthur was putting on an act to shut her down.

Feeling somewhat lightheaded already, Evelyn decided to lean into her dizziness. She leaned softly against Arthur’s shoulder, her whole body resting pliantly against him.

"I am indeed feeling a bit lightheaded. I wonder why that fruit wine has such a strong aftereffect."

Evelyn lifted her face with tear-filled eyes, a delicate mist rising at the corners of her eyes—muffled, hazy, and deeply alluring.

She rubbed her temple with one hand while holding a silk handkerchief over her lips with the other, coughing with a breath so weak it seemed it might break, yet sweeter and more stirring to the heart than a skylark’s song.

That fragile air made her look like a piece of precious jade held in the palm of a hand—one that would shatter instantly if accidentally dropped to the ground.

Even knowing full well it was all an act, Arthur could not help but fall under her spell.

Compared to him, Evelyn was not tall at all; the top of her head barely reached his chin. Her face was dainty, her figure delicate and slender. Leaning completely against him, her soft warmth mixed with a sweet fragrance made an unexplainable heat surge through him.

"Fruit wine is always like this. It isn't harsh when it touches the lips, only subtly sweet. You indulged your sweet tooth and drank a bit too much; now that the alcohol is catching up to you, it's natural to feel intoxicated." Arthur instinctively brushed away the mist of tears at the corner of Evelyn's eyes, his fingertips trembling subtly at the touch. "Since you are drunk, I shall take you back."

Not only Aunt Beatrice, but even the brothers and sisters-in-law present were utterly dumbfounded.

Was this really their General Shaw, whose sole focus had always been military training and warfare? Was this truly their eldest brother, who had never let a woman near him?

What shocked them even more was that before Arthur had even finished speaking, he scooped Evelyn up by the crook of her knees, lifting her directly into a bridal carry.

Evelyn was wearing a wide-sleeved silk gown. As her hem spread out, it swayed in mid-air to form a perfect arc, like a light, delicate bird nestling securely against a towering tree that held up the heavens.

Evelyn’s heart thumped rapidly. Her hands involuntarily clutched the fabric of the clothes over Arthur's chest.

Given the presence of others, she refrained from speaking. She buried her face against his inner chest, pretending to sleep, though her mind was already buzzing with doubts.

Was this act taking things a bit too far?

"Please continue without us. Evelyn and I shall head back first."

As Arthur spoke, his chest vibrated, rumbling softly. Evelyn felt a tingling sensation in her palms, letting Arthur carry her all the way toward Ruyi Hall.

Pearl and Dew, the two maidservants, blushed bright red and sensibly dared not follow too closely behind.

Rounding a corner and stepping through the moon gate, the noise and clamor of the banquet were left far behind.

Evelyn raised her head, pushing her hands against Arthur’s chest to create some space between them.

"There's no one around anymore. The General may put me down now."

Arthur offered a low "Mm," instantly reverting to his usual calm, impassive self.

When Evelyn’s feet touched the ground, her head spun, causing her to sway slightly. She hurriedly reached out to steady herself against a nearby pillar.

"Can you walk on your own?" Arthur asked.

Technically she could, though whether she could walk straight was another story. Proud and mindful of her dignity since childhood, Evelyn refused to let Arthur see her lose her composure.

"I am fine. The General may go ahead. I shall walk back slowly; it will help clear the wine from my head."

Arthur paused in place for a moment. Instead of leaving, he suddenly raised his left arm.

"Once you pass the covered walkway ahead, there won't be anything for you to lean on," Arthur said. "Hold onto my arm so you don't fall and hurt yourself."

Evelyn looked back toward the reception hall. Seeing no sign of anyone—and with Pearl and Dew clearly not planning to follow anytime soon—she realized that refusing now would only result in her suffering the consequences.

Choosing the lesser of two evils, Evelyn nodded. Raising her slender, jade-like hand, she casually rested it on Arthur’s forearm.

"In that case, I shall trouble the General."

Arthur matched her slow pace the entire way. The two walked quietly together as the cool night breeze gradually dissipated the lingering warmth of the wine.

She silently glanced up at him.

Arthur’s hair was bound high in a ponytail with a vivid red ribbon. A few loose strands fell naturally, and the moonlight cast an elegant, alabaster outline over his profile, flawless beyond reproach.

She had to admit his face was indeed exactly the type she favored.

Though chaotic thoughts drifted through Evelyn’s mind like wild grass in the wind, her expression maintained the dignified composure fitting for a princess. "Thank you for what happened today, General. Thank you for coming to my rescue."

"No need to thank me."

He did not need Evelyn’s gratitude, nor did he feel she owed him any thanks.

Taking care of Evelyn was his duty; only in this way could both Xing and Shu remain at peace.

He was a general who fought on battlefields, accustomed to strife and unafraid of bloodshed. Yet the more he experienced war, the more he cherished the current peace under heaven.

Since it was his duty, it required no validation from others. He would simply do what he was supposed to do.

Arthur kept his gaze straight ahead.

From the reception hall to the covered walkway, lanterns illuminated the path. However, after passing the walkway, there were no streetlamps along the road leading all the way to Ruyi Hall.

Along the way, they had to pass by a waterside pavilion and a long bridge over the lake. To prevent any accidents, Arthur focused entirely on the path ahead.

Before long, the two returned to Ruyi Hall.

A sudden gust of night wind rustled through the courtyard, blowing a lone leaf from the apricot tree, whirling it into a small vortex on the flagstones.

Evelyn had left her heavy cloak behind at the reception hall. Having stepped away from the man's warm embrace earlier, she had been feeling the chill for quite some time.

Releasing her grip on Arthur’s forearm, she stepped into the inner chamber first.

The moment the door opened, a wave of warmth washed over her face. The entire bedroom was as warm as spring.

"Ruyi Hall’s underfloor heating has been lit?" Evelyn turned around, asking in pleasant surprise.

The sudden contrast between cold and heat sent a fine shiver across her skin. Arthur’s eyes fell upon her slender neck.

Her neck was far too thin; his single palm could easily wrap around it.

The man let out a casual "Mm" and averted his gaze.

Since winter had not officially arrived yet, Evelyn guessed that Arthur had lit the heating specifically for her, feeling a touch of emotion in her heart.

Perhaps her initial impressions had prejudiced her; Arthur was not as terrifying or unreasonable as the rumors made him out to be.

It was merely a pity that he rarely smiled. Handsome as he was, he truly looked far too fierce.

·

Sleeping soundly without a single dream, Evelyn woke up the next morning at half-past seven.

Mother Shaw did not require her to pay morning respects or serve tea daily, and Arthur had left early for the military camp, leaving her with a rare moment of peaceful leisure.

With the autumn air crisp and clear, Evelyn was in a delightful mood. She asked Dew to accompany her to the General Manor’s artificial lake to feed the fish.

The artificial lake was not particularly refined, but it covered a vast area and appeared quite grand.

The pond was large and the fish were plump; Evelyn estimated at a glance that the longest carp was roughly as long as one of Arthur's legs.

"Your Highness, why are you in such a wonderful mood today?" Seeing her mistress looking radiant, Dew felt happy as well.

Evelyn scattered a handful of fish food. "Yesterday, a rough soldier like General Shaw actually had the underfloor heating lit for Ruyi Hall, which was quite beyond my expectation. Having slept well, my mood is naturally good."

Dew instantly remembered the conversation she had with the General that night.

Originally, she had simply not wanted the General to misunderstand the Princess. Her mistress had been pampered since childhood and did not know how to bow her head. Yet the General's Manor was not the Imperial Palace of Shu; if conflict truly broke out between the General and the Princess, would it not be her mistress who suffered in the end?

Finding an opportunity, Dew had naturally tried to smooth things over.

She just hadn't expected that General Shaw would not only refrain from taking offense, but would actually take her words to heart, ordering the underfloor heating to be lit the very next day.

Dew said, "Your Highness, seeing how General Shaw treats you, he seems to be a good husband worthy of your trust."

"A good husband? He is anything but."

She had merely revised her opinion of Arthur slightly; she had never truly viewed him as a husband in any meaningful sense.

Evelyn’s thoughts drifted back to several months ago.

Dark clouds had pressed heavy over the city. She had gathered her skirts and quietly climbed the ramparts of the imperial palace. Below, the vast army of Xing surged forward, laying siege to the city like a giant beast opening its maw, sending a chill through anyone who looked upon it.

The man at the very front wore heavy armor and held a red-tasseled spear, his dark gold cloak billowing violently in the howling wind. His imposing, magnificent presence had pierced her eyes with bitter clarity.

Had her Imperial Father not intended to negotiate for peace, she might very well have become a soul slain beneath his spear.

She understood all too well what this marriage between her and Arthur really was.

It was nothing more than a political alliance for peace. She did it solely for Shu, and there was no need to foster genuine affection for the man.

Unaware of what her mistress was thinking, Dew continued to advise her softly, "Your Highness, even if you do not admire him, you should at least bear a child. For now, people respect you because you are a princess married for peace, but what about in the future? Having a child will at least give you something to rely on."

"I do not wish to have a child with him," Evelyn declared with absolute certainty, though a faint, imperceptible bitterness crept into her voice. "Besides... I cannot bear children anyway. Didn't the imperial physicians of Shu diagnose me long ago? Given my health, it is almost impossible for me to conceive."

"Your Highness..." Dew’s eyes turned red. "It was your servant's fault for speaking out of turn."

Evelyn glared at her. "What are you crying for? Children and grandchildren have their own fortunes. Without them, I get to enjoy my own life. I refuse to believe the Shaw family would dare do anything to me."

Amused by her mistress, Dew wiped away her tears and nodded vigorously.

Mistress and servant continued feeding the fish by the artificial lake, completely unaware that every single word of their conversation was overheard by someone standing hidden behind the thickets.