---
Days passed.
Then a week.
The palace began to adjust to the presence of Lǐ Wú—the silent, foreign knight who stood just a little too close to the Prince, who moved like a ghost and fought like a blade honed by regret.
Some whispered that he was too beautiful to be just a knight.
Others whispered he was too quiet not to be dangerous.
But none dared question him aloud—not after he bested three senior guards in a sparring match without so much as a scratch. His control was elegant. His eyes, calculating.
Only Commander Qi still watched him with suspicion, but even he remained silent.
Because Lǐ Wú belonged to the Prince now.
And the Prince made sure everyone knew it.
---
One morning, the Prince was summoned to a private diplomatic gathering—an unexpected envoy from a neighboring kingdom had arrived, claiming urgent matters that couldn't wait.
The Prince didn't trust it.
He didn't say anything.
But Lǐ Wú noticed the way his fingers tightened at the message. The way his shoulders locked.
And when the Prince prepared to enter the court chamber, Lǐ Wú was already waiting beside him.
> "You're not on duty," the Prince said quietly.
> "I know," Lǐ Wú replied. "But I'm still yours."
---
Inside the chamber, three foreign ministers sat with forced smiles and oily tones.
They offered gifts. They spoke of peace.
But then came their real offer.
> "A marriage," the eldest envoy said. "Between our Duke's daughter and Your Highness."
> "A symbol of unity," another added. "And perhaps, pressure lifted off your… less traditional reputation."
The Prince's jaw clenched, but he gave nothing away.
> "You insult my freedom under the guise of diplomacy?"
> "We speak for the future of both lands."
Then, from the shadows near the far wall, Lǐ Wú stepped forward.
The envoy stiffened, clearly not expecting the Prince to bring a personal guard to a closed negotiation.
> "Forgive the intrusion," Lǐ Wú said smoothly, "but if unity is the goal, perhaps blackmail isn't the way."
> "We said no such—"
> "You came uninvited. Offered veiled threats. And now you're requesting royal marriage from a Prince known for breaking tradition," he said coolly.
> "That's either desperate… or stupid."
The room fell cold.
The Prince turned slightly, meeting Lǐ Wú's eyes with a look somewhere between surprise and quiet pride.
> "He speaks well, doesn't he?" the Prince said to the envoys. "Loyalty is hard to find these days."
The eldest envoy tried to save face, but the tone had shifted.
Their game was over.
---
Later that evening, the Prince poured wine for the two of them in his private study.
> "You didn't have to speak."
> "You weren't going to," Lǐ Wú replied. "So I did."
The Prince handed him a glass.
> "You're still impossible to read."
> "You're still hard to please."
They drank in silence.
Then the Prince asked quietly:
> "Would you still have protected me… even if I never forgave you?"
Lǐ Wú didn't hesitate.
> "Always."
And for a long moment, that answer was enough.