Yu Zang stepped forward, prepared to do what he always did—kneel beside the patient, take the noblewoman's wrist, and calmly measure the rhythm of her pulse. His hands hovered above the embroidered sleeve of Lady Jiang Ruolan, steady despite the tension that always accompanied her presence.
But before his fingers could so much as graze her skin, her slender hand lifted abruptly, halting him mid-gesture. Her eyes, dark and sharp as glass, pinned him where he stood.
"I see you brought a woman physician with you today," she said coolly, tilting her chin toward Leena.
Yu Zang's breath caught. He forced a strained smile. "Yes, but she is not truly a physician. Only an assistant." His words were careful, cautious—as though he were tiptoeing across thin ice.
Lady Jiang's lips curled. "Then let her do the checkup."
The command rang in the chamber like a whip.
Leena's stomach twisted. Why would she ask that? What is she planning? Unease prickled down her spine. She clasped her hands together tightly, as though bracing for an unseen blow.
Yu Zang glanced at her, panic flickering across his face, before quickly turning back to the noblewoman. "I'm afraid she isn't qualified for such a task," he tried again, his voice low, almost pleading.
"Oh?" Lady Jiang's tone dropped colder. "And yet, somehow, this unqualified woman was trusted to spend the night in the prince's chamber… to take care of him."
The way she emphasized those words—take care of him—was a knife laced with poison.
Yu Zang's throat tightened. His mouth opened, then closed again. For once, the scholar who always had an answer stood speechless.
"I asked you a question!" Lady Jiang snapped, her gaze whipping toward Leena like a hawk spotting prey.
"M-me?" Leena stammered, her breath catching. Confusion clouded her mind. Why me? Is she angry? Jealous? Or… does she just despise me for being foreign? A storm of thoughts battered her, leaving her frozen.
Lady Jiang let out a sharp, mocking laugh that made the hairs on Leena's neck rise. "Are you slow-witted? Why do you keep playing dumb?"
Her voice dripped with contempt, each word landing like a slap.
Leena's lips parted, trembling. "I… I was helping the prince with his trouble sleeping," she blurted, her voice thin and shaky. "It wasn't anything difficult—just… some herbs." The lie slipped from her mouth before she could stop it, her desperation forcing the words out.
Lady Jiang's laughter rang again, this time laced with disbelief. "Is that so?" she drawled, her eyes glinting with cruel amusement.
"There are rumors, you know. Rumors that you slept with him."
Leena's chest tightened. Her heart thudded painfully in her ears.
"And now I must ask," Lady Jiang leaned forward, her voice sharp as a dagger, "why is a whore allowed to take care of nobles?"
The word—whore—exploded in the room, filling every corner, heavy and suffocating.
Leena's cheeks burned, her stomach churned. Shame pressed down on her chest so tightly she could hardly breathe. Never had she felt so small, so exposed.
"You're right," Yu Zang cut in abruptly, his tone sharp. His desperation was written across his face, his words meant to salvage at least the reputation of the physicians if not his own dignity. "It was a mistake. I will see that she is removed immediately."
Then he turned on Leena, his eyes narrowing. "Why are you still here?" he barked. His voice, harsh and unfamiliar, slammed into her like a door shutting. "Get out!"
Leena flinched. Tears blurred her vision. She bowed her head quickly, unable to bear the weight of their gazes a moment longer. Her legs moved before her mind caught up, carrying her out of the room.
The air outside was thick with smoke from the kitchens and the chatter of servants rushing about their daily duties. Leena stumbled into the courtyard, searching for a corner where no one would notice her. She sank against a wall, pulling her knees close, and at last, the tears broke free. They poured down her cheeks unchecked, hot and endless, as sobs shook her shoulders. Hidden among the noise of clattering pots and the hiss of boiling water, her grief went unseen.
༄ Hours later. ༄
"Your Majesty, Lady Jiang Ruolan requests an audience," Jun's voice carried into the study.
The prince sat at his desk, his fingers curled around a piece of silk. A delicate handkerchief, embroidered with a single jasmine flower. It had fallen from Leena's robe the night before, when he carried her into his chamber.
He had held it since then, unwilling to let it go. Her scent lingered faintly on the fabric, stirring memories of her soft presence, her hesitant smile, the warmth of her lips pressed against his. He had thought of nothing else since.
The prince's jaw tightened. The last person he wished to see was Lady Jiang Ruolan. Yet her connection to his mother, the Royal Concubine, meant refusal was impossible.
"…Let her in," he said at last, his expression smoothing into the familiar cold mask.
The door slid open. Lady Jiang entered with a confident stride, her every detail meticulously arranged: the pale blue silk gown, the powder on her face, the heavy jewels glinting at her wrists and ears. She was a vision crafted with purpose.
She smiled broadly as she lowered herself across from him. "Your Majesty, I heard you weren't well yesterday. I brought you herbs from the north. They're said to be most effective."
"Thank you." His tone was curt, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond her.
"Your Highness…" she let her voice trail, soft and suggestive, before reaching across the desk.
Her hands closed around his. Her fingers were cool, her grip firm. She held his eyes as though daring him to look away, her lips curving into a smile designed to charm.
The prince froze, uncertain. For a heartbeat, he sat caught between courtesy and disgust.
Then—
Crack.
The sound of a branch snapping outside sliced through the tension.
He turned sharply toward the window overlooking the courtyard.
And there—
Leena.
She stood in the shadows, her face pale, her eyes wide with hurt and devastation.
Their gazes met only for a moment.
Then she turned and ran.
The prince lurched to his feet, tearing his hands from Lady Jiang's grasp. His pulse hammered as he rushed toward the door. But just as he reached it, a hand seized his sleeve, holding him fast.
Lady Jiang's grip was unyielding.
He froze, fury burning in his chest.
And the moment shattered into silence.
🀢🀣🀦🀤 To be continued... 🀢🀣🀦🀤