Xian Rong, the younger brother of Prince Rong Yuan, stood a short distance away, giving instructions to the guards as the last of the purchased goods were being loaded. As he turned, his eyes were drawn to the small crowd forming nearby.
His gaze stopped.
At the center of it stood his brother—the Crown Prince of Yunhai—holding a woman who looked as though she might collapse at any moment.
Frowning, Xian Rong handed over his final orders and walked toward them. With every step he took closer, the woman in his brother's arms stirred an uncomfortable familiarity in him.
Then he saw her face clearly.
His steps faltered.
Anger surged through him so suddenly it made his chest burn.
It was her.
The same woman who, months ago, had clung to him in a drunken haze, begging him in a trembling voice.
Please take me… I need you… please don't stop…
The memory still made his jaw tighten. He remembered how the wine had clouded his reason, how her words had lit a fire in him he hadn't bothered to extinguish.
What enraged him even more was what came after.
The next morning, she had screamed as though she were the victim, gathering people with her cries, acting as if he had forced her. The humiliation had nearly crushed him. If he had not hidden his identity that night, the matter could have reached the palace—and his father.
And now here she was again, acting weak and pitiful in his brother's arms.
Before he could stop himself, Xian Rong strode forward and roughly pulled her away.
"Brother," he said sharply, his voice cutting through the stunned silence, "you should not allow this kind of woman to cling to you. You are married."
Prince Rong Yuan froze, turning to stare at him in disbelief.
At that same moment, Hana arrived, holding Ha Rin tightly by the hand. Relief flashed across her face when she saw Yue Rong—but Yue Rong no longer saw them.
The force of being dragged, combined with the stress of running through the crowded market, sent a sharp pain tearing through her abdomen. Her body folded, and a cry escaped her lips.
"My Lady!" Hana screamed, rushing forward.
Before she could reach her, Prince Rong Yuan had already caught Yue Rong and lifted her into his arms.
"Move," he ordered, his voice firm. "There's a healer nearby."
Xian Rong's anger flared even hotter as he watched his brother carry her away, but he said nothing as Hana hurried after them, Ha Rin struggling to keep up.
Within minutes, they arrived at the healer's house. An elderly woman emerged, carrying a wooden box filled with herbs and tools.
"My Prince," she greeted hurriedly.
"Save her," Prince Rong Yuan said without hesitation.
The healer moved quickly, examining Yue Rong as her breathing came in shallow gasps.
"There's blood!" Ha Rin cried, clinging to Hana.
"She's pregnant," Hana said urgently, stepping forward.
After a tense moment, the healer straightened and nodded. "She and the child are safe. It was a threatened miscarriage. She must rest."
Relief washed over the room.
The healer treated Yue Rong carefully, gave instructions, and warned them strictly against stress or exertion. Yue Rong remained there for hours, resting while the pain slowly eased.
Prince Rong Yuan stayed the entire time.
When it was finally safe for her to return home, he personally escorted them. Before leaving, he bowed his head slightly to Hana and Yue Rong.
"I apologize on behalf of my younger brother," he said sincerely. "I will make him apologize properly. I promise."
With that, he turned and left, the weight of the encounter heavy on his shoulders.
Hours passed, yet his brother still had not returned.
Xian Rong paced back and forth where the guards waited, his steps restless, his thoughts a tangled mess.
What is he still doing there?
Is she still acting pitiful, clinging to him?
Or is she telling him about that night… our night?
He stopped suddenly.
"The child…" he muttered under his breath. "What child was she calling for earlier?"
A cold unease crept into his chest.
Was she already a mother before that night?
"No… that's impossible," he whispered, shaking his head. "Even though I was drunk, I still remember… I broke her that night."
If she had been a virgin, then whose child was she desperately searching for in the market?
His thoughts spiraled until footsteps approached.
Prince Rong Yuan had returned to the market to retrieve what they had left behind. The moment he saw Xian Rong pacing in circles, worry written plainly on his face, his brows drew together.
Leaning slightly toward his assistant, he murmured, "Investigate what truly happened between that woman and my brother."
"Yes, My Prince."
"Brother!" Xian Rong hurried forward, forcing a laugh that sounded far too stiff. "You're back. What took you so long? You didn't believe anything that woman said, did you?"
Prince Rong Yuan lifted a brow, studying him calmly. "Such a woman? You seem to know her quite well."
Xian Rong stiffened. "I don't know her. I've never seen her before."
"Really?" Prince Rong Yuan asked, his tone light, his eyes never leaving his brother's face.
Xian Rong swallowed. "Brother… what was wrong with her?"
"She nearly miscarried," Prince Rong Yuan replied.
"What?" Xian Rong exclaimed, his face draining of color. "How… how many months is she?"
"I'm not certain," Rong Yuan said slowly. "But her stomach is not very large. About five or six months, the healer said."
Silence fell between them.
Xian Rong went completely still.
Prince Rong Yuan watched closely—every flicker of fear, every tightening muscle, every struggle his brother failed to hide.
After what felt like an eternity, Xian Rong took a sharp breath and forced out a laugh. "Brother, you should stay away from such a woman. She's not even married and already pregnant. Heaven knows how many men must have slept with her."
Prince Rong Yuan frowned slightly. "You said you don't know her. How do you know she isn't married?"
"I… she…" Xian Rong stammered, his words collapsing on themselves.
Before he could recover, Rong Yuan spoke again, his voice smooth. "Did you remember to buy the sour fruit my wife asked for?"
"Yes," Xian Rong answered quickly.
Prince Rong Yuan smiled faintly—a knowing smile.
You are hiding something, he thought. And I have time.
Turning away, he said nothing more, already certain that the truth would soon find its way to him.