The sun rose gently over the icy peaks of Skiiri, casting golden light upon the palace that shimmered like a crown of snow. Inside, the court buzzed with anticipation. At twenty-four, Prince Xìn Xuān, heir to the throne, was calm and composed—but today, a flicker of unease stirred beneath his noble poise.
It was the day he would finally meet Princess Lù Zhāo.
Their kingdoms, once distant and strained, had forged a political bond. And that bond now rested on their shoulders. The date had been arranged with the approval of both courts, a ceremonial meeting meant to plant the seed of alliance—perhaps even love.
Xìn Xuān stood before his mirror, adjusting the collar of his winter-blue hanfu embroidered with silver dragons. His long, jet-black hair was tied neatly at his nape, and his sword hung sheathed at his side. Though a prince, he bore the scars of war—faint, faded, but there. He was no stranger to duty. And yet, something about this meeting made him hesitate.
Beyond the frozen gates of the outer palace, Princess Lù Zhāo arrived.
Her presence commanded attention like thunder cloaked in silk. Dressed in a flowing gown of crimson and gold, she moved like fire through the snow. Flanked by her personal guard, she stepped out of her carriage with grace. But among the silent row of knights behind her, one stood unusually close—never more than a step away.
Shèng Lín.
Unlike the other knights, who carried themselves with rigid formality, Shèng Lín moved like a shadow, fluid and quiet. His eyes, sharp as a falcon's, never left the princess. While the others watched the surroundings, Shèng Lín watched her—her smallest gestures, her silences, her moods. His loyalty was unwavering, almost possessive. If Princess Lù Zhāo breathed, Shèng Lín knew it.
As the procession neared the palace steps, Prince Xìn Xuān emerged from within, his cloak trailing behind him like midnight wind.
Their eyes met for the first time.
Lù Zhāo stood proud, unshaken. A glint of amusement flickered in her gaze, like she had already guessed what kind of man the prince might be.
Xìn Xuān gave a slight bow. "Princess Lù Zhāo. It is an honor."
Before she could respond, Shèng Lín subtly stepped between them—not enough to be rude, but enough to be noticed. His hand hovered near his sword, as if reminding the prince that every word and gesture would be measured.
Xìn Xuān's gaze flicked briefly to the knight. "And this must be your most loyal guard."
The princess smiled. "This is Shèng Lín, my shadow. He's saved my life more times than I can count."
Xìn Xuān's lips curled into a polite smile, but his heart stirred. Something about the knight set his instincts on edge—not just as a royal, but as a man who'd survived court betrayal and hidden daggers.
Their fates had only just brushed—and already, the first thread of tension had been pulled.
And so, the stage was set.
Two kingdoms, one alliance.
A prince and a spy.
And the first meeting that would ignite a fate none of them could escape.
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