Pain greeted Xiao Zhi before her eyes even opened.
A deep, throbbing ache pulsed through her cheekbone. It felt as if someone had slammed her hand against stone.
And someone had.
Kabil.
She blinked, the memory returning all at once. His twisted expression, his voice dripping with contempt, his hand closing around her jaw as if she were a thing. Not a person. Not a wife. Not a human being. Just a possession he could break because the plot allowed him to.
She swallowed hard, tasting iron on her tongue.
The second cliché…
It had come true.
The novel's "married to an abusive, barbaric prince."
Checked.
Delivered with bonus bruising.
She pressed her fingers lightly against her cheek again, wincing, and a soft, hollow laugh escaped her throat, one that sounded more like disbelief than amusement.
"So he was pretending," she whispered to the empty room. "All this time…"
Pretending to be considerate.
Pretending to care when she struggled through the journey.
Pretending to be patient, even warm.
A façade. A performance.
To make her lower her guard and, in the end, mock her with the revelation.
Now she understood exactly how thoroughly she'd fallen into the trap.
She did had let her guard down. Stupidly letting herself believe that Kabil was different, was changing, was maybe, possibly someone she could rely on.
And the moment she allowed that one fragile hope…
He crushed it.
Crushed her.
She stared blankly at the ceiling above her, trying to even out her breathing. Her heart felt small and tight inside her chest. She wanted to cry, but her eyes were too swollen and dry to allow it.
She lay in silence for several minutes, listening to the faint sounds of her own heartbeat.
Then, the door flung open.
She jolted upright despite the pain, clutching the blanket as if it could shield her from whoever was entering.
A figure walking inside, footsteps light and slow, as if hesitating.
"Ruhan?" she breathed, almost startled.
His presence felt like a breath of fresh air after suffocating for too long. Seeing him now, she felt something loosen in her chest.
But the relief was short-lived.
Because Ruhan's expression was not gentle.
Not warm.
Not even sympathetic.
His face was cold. His gaze lowered, guarded. Professionally emotionless in a way she had never seen in him before.
In Hua, he was mysterious and cunning. In Tughri,l he appears quiet, but with a steady presence. Someone who appeared exactly when she was about to fall. Someone who, somehow, kept saving her from dangers both big and subtle, as if he were trying to rewrite parts of the story on her behalf.
But Ruhan, in front of her now, showed a completely different expression.
He bowed stiffly. A perfect bow of a servant in front of a princess.
"Princess, good morning."
The formality stung more than she expected.
Her eyes flicked over him, searching his face for any sign of the familiar softness, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the floor, at his own feet, anywhere but her eyes. It felt like a wall suddenly erected between them.
She didn't understand it. Not after everything.
Before she could speak, Ruhan moved. He stepped toward her bed with a quiet, measured grace and knelt beside her. She stared, startled, as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small porcelain jar, the kind used to store medicinal ointment.
He didn't say a word. He simply opened the jar, revealing a faint herbal scent, and dipped two fingers inside.
Then he gently, so gently it made her breath catch, touched her bruised hand.
The cool ointment pressed against her skin, soothing, but she barely felt it through the shock that struck her instead.
She hadn't told anyone she was injured. No one else had entered her room. No one had even looked at her this morning.
"How did you… know?" she whispered.
Ruhan froze for half a second. Barely noticeable, but she saw it. He didn't look up, didn't meet her gaze, simply continued spreading the ointment in slow, careful strokes.
Her voice shook. "Ruhan… Kabil did this to me."
Still, he did not speak.
"He lied to me," she continued, bitterness rising in her throat. "Pretended to be kind, to be gentle. But he's cruel. He—he hurt me."
She waited for him to react, for him to look angry or surprised or something.
Instead, Ruhan's head sank lower, his hand pausing only briefly before resuming its motions.
Xiao Zhi frowned. Something in his silence was wrong…very wrong.
"Ruhan," she said quietly, "you… knew, didn't you?"
His breath hitched.
Just a little, but enough for Xiao Zhi to realize.
"You knew he was pretending."
Ruhan's hand trembled against her skin. The smallest, smallest tremor, quickly stilled. But not quickly enough.
She inhaled sharply. "You did know."
The room fell painfully silent.
Finally, after a long moment, Ruhan's voice broke through the stillness, "…I'm sorry, Princess."
He bowed his head until his forehead almost touched the edge of the bed.
"It was not my place to speak of such things."
His words stabbed into her like a blade. Not because he confirmed her suspicions, but because the apology felt real…too real. As if he had been carrying it like a weight, waiting for this exact moment to crumble under it.
For a heartbeat, Xiao Zhi felt betrayed. How could he keep something like this from her?
How could he stand by and watch her fall straight into the trap?
But then reality settled back in.
He was a eunuch.
A servant.
He had no power.
No voice.
No right to interfere with the affairs of the royal family. Especially not to contradict a man like Kabil.
Her anger dissolved, replaced with a tired, aching understanding.
She exhaled softly and attempted a small smile.
"It's all right," she said. "I know."
For the first time since he entered, Ruhan finally lifted his head. His eyes, usually calm, were darkened, filled with something sharp and painful she couldn't name.
He didn't believe her forgiveness. He couldn't accept it.
But he didn't argue.
He finished applying the ointment, his movements precise yet trembling at the edges, then closed the jar carefully. When he rose to stand, he offered his hand instinctively, helping her sit up and then guiding her to her feet as if she were glass. Fragile, breakable.
His touch lingered a moment longer than necessary before he let go.
"Princess," he said quietly, his voice steadying, "today, you will be summoned to meet the Khatun Dowager. It is the custom after a wedding ceremony. Someone will come for you soon. You… should prepare yourself."
She nodded, though her mind still felt heavy.
"Thank you," she murmured, barely audible.
Ruhan flinched, so subtly she almost missed it.
He turned toward the door, posture composed, but something in the slight hunch of his shoulders betrayed him.
He stepped out.
Xiao Zhi sank back onto the bed, exhausted, replaying the conversation in her mind. She wondered what she would say to the Khatun Dowager. She wondered how she would stand beside Kabil after the night before.
But Ruhan…
She didn't notice how tightly he had been clenching his hands until the door clicked behind him.