Chapter 10: The Mask Beneath the Crown
The next morning, Mei Xiao was dragged—yes, dragged—to the martial courtyard by a strict maid with the strength of a forklift.
She stood blinking in the sunlight, her hair a mess, sleeves crooked, and eyes barely open. Across from her stood Murong Jing He, pristine as always. Not a strand of his dark hair out of place. Not a speck of dust on his white robes.
"How do you look like that at sunrise?" she muttered.
He ignored her and tossed her a wooden practice sword. "Today, we assess your basics."
She caught it clumsily. "I'm not a pancake—stop flipping me every day like one."
He smirked slightly, then his expression hardened. "Let's begin."
They sparred. Or rather, she flailed, and he dodged with maddening elegance.
"Can't I just fight with words? I'm good at sarcasm," she huffed, swinging wide and missing him by a mile.
"You're not trying."
"Oh, I am. You're just... cheat-level impossible."
Suddenly, he moved faster than she could see, twisting her wrist and pinning her arm behind her back.
Too close. Too fast. Her heart jumped.
"You're distracted," he murmured near her ear.
"You're smug."
He released her slowly. "If this continues, you won't survive one real battle."
"You care?" she teased, rubbing her arm.
"Only because your failure reflects on me." His voice cooled.
Mei Xiao's smile faded. There it was again—that cold wall.
But as he walked away, she didn't see the flicker of guilt in his eyes… or the scroll he held hidden in his sleeve.
A faded prophecy written in gold ink:
> "When the Phoenix awakens in a vessel not her own, only the heart of the Dragon King shall bind the realms."
Murong clenched the scroll behind his back.
He had married her because of this. Because of fate. Because of duty.
But now… duty was blurring into something he hadn't expected.
And that terrified him more than war.