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When Tao Xuan revealed the marriage proposal, Ye Xiu didn’t have much to say about it.
Tao Xuan thought it was positively outrageous. His advisors, by and large, agreed with him, too much the lickspittles to point out the advantages of the match (namely, the cessation of hostilities between Tyrtell and Eracent). Thus, Tao Xuan had to come around to it on his own, which took weeks.
By the time the last details of the marriage contract had been hammered out, three months had passed since the original proposal was sent. Everyone in the Eracenti capital knew their General Ye Qiu, believed to be an alpha, was actually an omega now set to marry the Tyrtellian king, an alpha warrior who’d earned renown on many of the same battlefields as their general.
Han Wenqing and Ye Qiu, married. Who would have thought?
Su Mucheng was expectedly distraught at the result of these months-long negotiations, though not for sensible reasons such as “Ye Xiu is going to marry his former enemy” or “Tao Xuan will eventually find someone new to fight his wars for him and aforementioned negotiations will mean nothing then.”
No. She was worried about the distance. “Tyrtell is so far! And I hear it can get very cold in Thousand Peak City.”
“I’ll live in a luxurious castle,” Ye Xiu reminded her, outstretched on his bed, “surrounded by creature comforts. Such as hearths, I imagine.”
“How often shall I visit?” she asked after a pause.
Ye Xiu lifted his head to look at her. She stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over her chest and shoulders hunched inward. The expression on her face…
Immediately, Ye Xiu softened. “You can come with me if you want.”
Su Mucheng perked up. “Can I?”
“What can Tao Xuan do? Stop you? He has no grounds to.” Ye Xiu laughed a little and let his head fall back on the pillow. “Ha. I’d pity whoever received that assignment.”
A moment later, the bed was jostled as Su Mucheng flopped down next to him. “An astute observation. Very well, I’ll go with you. Can’t abandon you to the tender clutches of your husband-to-be, now can I?”
Ye Xiu paid no mind to her lofty tone and smiled faintly at the ceiling. He very carefully did not think about his husband-to-be.
* * *
There was no fanfare to accompany Ye Xiu’s departure. It was a quiet send-off, as if Tao Xuan wanted to smuggle him out of the palace with no one the wiser. To cover up the shame of selling his top general to the enemy, maybe. Or, more likely—because Tao Xuan didn’t have much by way of shame—he wanted to draw attention away from the implications of Ye Xiu’s absence (no forthcoming martial victories to distract from his shoddy statecraft).
Which was why the journey to Tyrtell was so surreal.
Not long after they crossed the border, it seemed like eyes followed Ye Xiu everywhere he went. To be fair, his initially small traveling party became the opposite of inconspicuous—the added Tyrtellian guard escort, the carriages bearing the royal emblem of Tyrtell, the more populated route. But instinct said there was something more to it.
Throughout their travels, Su Mucheng showed herself to be adventurous and outgoing, speaking to everyone and asking questions. So, at first, Ye Xiu thought the attention their caravan drew was due to her good looks and friendly disposition.
Ye Xiu’s own forays outside his carriage—which were many, because he was not used to long trips in confined quarters—proved otherwise. The locals might fall in love with Su Mucheng at first sight, but their fascination was centered on him.
He supposed it made some sense. As little as three months ago, Ye Xiu—Ye Qiu—had been a famed and feared general of Eracent’s armies. Tao Xuan might be king, but his countrymen rallied for Ye Qiu’s call, and his other generals bowed to Ye Qiu’s strength. For many people both within and without the nation, Ye Qiu was the face of Eracent.
Except he didn’t have a face. He was an alpha warrior who appeared only on the battlefield. His helm never came off in public and the details of his identity were never revealed. Called a “proud scion” of the Ye family, yet the Ye family had almost nothing to do with him. Their indifference to his achievements left some in doubt as to his true origins. (The Ye patriarch, it was said, only acknowledged the family’s alliance with the Middle Era dynasty for the sake of honor and tradition, and his supposed son’s service to Tao Xuan was not an assignment but an exile. Ye Xiu refused to confirm this theory.)
But then came the marriage proposal, asking for the hand of the omega warrior, General Ye Qiu, born as Ye Xiu, descendant of the noble Ye family of Gale Gobi…
There was more after that, of course. Such and such about a permanent truce and an everlasting peace, prosperous trade opportunities, a promise of cooperation in the event of another Rift War—pretty words and solemn oaths, all nestled atop the foundation of a marriage between two longtime enemies.
Still, it was a marriage proposal, not a peace offering. Not in name. The peasants, particularly the Tyrtellians, Ye Xiu was told, were convinced that Han Wenqing had fallen in love with his enemy, and refused to fight him anymore. Hence, the politics.
Ye Xiu laughed and laughed when he heard. Didn’t it sound like something straight from a story?
There could be no love between Han Wenqing and Ye Xiu because they did not know each other. Their interactions were limited to the realm of combat. They had met on the field when they were teenagers, mere green younglings, and since then, their encounters were all kinds of hostile. Ye Xiu knew Han Wenqing had believed him to be an alpha, just like the rest of the continent did, and he knew Han Wenqing didn’t like him, because Ye Xiu served a warmonger who brought devastation to both their kingdoms. That was the limit of his knowledge.
An interesting premise for a proposal, no?
This marriage, Ye Xiu thought on the way to Thousand Peak City, was a sham. An absolute sham. It didn’t matter that Han Wenqing’s subjects looked at him with trepidation and amazement, it didn’t matter that his escort of Tyrtellian soldiers treated him with utmost respect, it didn’t matter that Su Mucheng was enjoying herself. (Well, that did matter, just not in the context of his upcoming nuptials.)
All it was, all it could ever be, was a way to trap Tao Xuan into decent behavior. To take away his biggest military asset and weaken Eracent for a few years, at the least. It had nothing to do with Ye Xiu, the man inside the famous black armor, and it probably had little to do with Han Wenqing, the man sitting the Tyrtellian throne. People wanted the war to be over. They wanted quiet borders and busy roads, bustling cities and laughing children.
That it came to this was laughable. A marriage! A sweet facade for political leverage, designed to usher in a new era.
Well, if it worked, it worked.
But these tales of forbidden love? Laughable. Ye Xiu was nothing more than a price to pay, from Han Wenqing’s perspective. Even the truest love couldn’t wipe away years of bad blood.
When Tyrtellian townspeople and fellow travelers glanced at him over and over, Ye Xiu wondered at their boldness in marveling at such a renowned killer.
* * *
The trek to the Tyrtellian capital wouldn’t ordinarily be longer than two weeks at most, but his escort seemed to favor comfort over speed. Ye Xiu didn’t complain about this; he was not in any rush to see his new home.
But time marched forward without any regard for his feelings, and their steady pace soon saw their party approaching the city gates. Ye Xiu remained sequestered in his carriage for hours, curtains drawn and snacks abundant, and did not dare glance outside. It wasn’t that he was frightened, regretful, or otherwise overcome, but because he was trying to figure out which strategies were most suitable for ingratiating himself to Han Wenqing upon arrival.
He didn’t fool himself into thinking Han Wenqing would be warm toward him. Ye Xiu had noticed long ago that, even though Han Wenqing was a passionate fighter, he treated the people around him with a certain—some might say a kingly—degree of coldness. His soldiers were loyal, his people were reverent (at least the ones who lived near the borders Han Wenqing defended were), and his rule was respected. There was no doubt that Han Wenqing deserved his exalted reputation, but the man himself was a bit of a mystery.
In such a case, Ye Xiu could only take a stab at what might please his fiancé: a polite and well-behaved front in public, and an omitted presence in private. Both things he was capable of providing. It wasn’t for nothing that he’d been put through his paces in etiquette lessons.
It took a considerable length of time to make it from the outermost gates of Thousand Peak City all the way to the castle. Ye Xiu glanced outside once he noticed the sounds of a densely populated settlement had faded somewhat.
The view that awaited him was a stunning one. Skystone Castle towered upon the peak of an intimidating, steep hill, its beauty a warning and an invitation all in one. The stone of its body was relatively pale, but clearly aged; the battlements appeared to be unmanned. In the brightness of early afternoon, each of its six towers stood out starkly against the cerulean sky.
A familiar white horse appeared at the corner of his eye, and Ye Xiu turned his head. His assessing gaze met Su Mucheng’s serious one, and they stared at each other for several moments. Then Su Mucheng urged her mount forward until it drew abreast of the carriage window.
“What are you thinking?”
Ye Xiu raised his eyebrows. “That I’m fortunate to live in such a splendid castle. You could probably shoot down an eagle from the top of one of those towers.”
A soldier nearby seemed to overhear what they were saying, because Ye Xiu’s ears caught the sound of a very distinct cough.
As planned, Su Mucheng laughed at him. “Your aim isn’t any worse than mine. We should probably take care not to decimate the local eagle population, though.”
“Probably,” Ye Xiu agreed.
“Do you suppose I’ll be allowed to stay?” Su Mucheng asked in a quieter voice.
Ye Xiu made a soft sound. “His Majesty’s letter didn’t seem to indicate any reluctance over the idea.”
When Tao Xuan had been ready to send back the approved marriage terms, he’d demanded that Ye Xiu write a simple letter to accompany them. The letter, addressed to Han Wenqing, was mostly empty words, but Tao Xuan had only wanted to verify the identity of their correspondent. “Han Wenqing wouldn’t ignore a letter from you unless he was plotting something, or letting someone else do all the negotiations,” he had reasoned.
Ye Xiu wasn’t sure that line of thought held any water—what did it matter if someone else was appointed to negotiate?—but he scribbled a couple of paragraphs anyway, making sure to mention Su Mucheng. And to his surprise, Han Wenqing had replied, including his own version of empty words as well as a concession: Su Mucheng could live with them, but as there was no shared blood between her and Ye Xiu, the court would never recognize her as a proper in-law.
Neither of them cared about that. Su Mucheng understood that she would have to earn her own status in Han Wenqing’s court, and Ye Xiu understood that he was probably powerless to help her until he accrued enough credibility of his own. Another letter was composed, another reply was received, and Ye Xiu decided that was enough romantic correspondence for a while. They had already been a few days away from ratifying the marriage contract by then.
“As long as he likes me, there shouldn’t be any issue,” Su Mucheng declared with a sudden surge of confidence.
“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” Ye Xiu demanded.
“Why wouldn’t he like you?” Su Mucheng demanded back, her disbelief almost equal to his. “You’re powerful, you’re good-looking, and you come from noble stock. Anybody in the king’s position would view you as a worthy spouse. Or have you forgotten that he was the one to propose?”
“I don’t trust your flattery. Are you trying to get something from me?”
“I’m trying to comfort you,” Su Mucheng said, rolling her eyes. “It’s understandable to be nervous, but if there are any problems, Han Wenqing will be the one causing them, I’m sure—”
“It’s like you’ve never met me,” Ye Xiu interrupted.
Su Mucheng squinted at him. “…At least on the first day. You’ll definitely cause problems starting tomorrow. But for now, you’ll try to be the image of a genteel omega. Won’t you?”
Ye Xiu wasn’t certain if she was asking him or threatening him, but he nodded at her with a smile before beating a hasty retreat. He didn’t pin back the curtains, though, and let the wood-scented air blow in as the carriage rolled uphill. His snacks were delicious, the sounds of nature were abundant, and he could almost convince himself he was just another traveler enjoying a leisurely trip to the countryside.
Then the carriage lurched to a stop. Loud voices rang, bouncing off stone walls, and a hand knocked against the door of the carriage. “Your Highness, we’ve arrived.”
“Your Highness”? Goodness, it was already starting.
Ye Xiu didn’t waste time in getting out; he just opened the door with a steady hand and stepped off the carriage like it was any other day and not an occasion.
His first impression was of the courtyard—flowers and bushes trimmed to perfection, banners hanging from above and unlit torches mounted on the walls. Then he noticed the tower in front of him, so tall that he had to tilt his head back to take it all in. And finally, he saw a row of strangers standing a short distance from the carriage, watching him with tense expressions and stiff postures.
Automatically, Ye Xiu smiled. Did they think he was going to pounce on them as soon as he walked in through the front door?
The lot of them seemed to brace themselves.
It was only after someone stepped out of their midst that the atmosphere unclenched a bit. A familiar stranger, and the most interesting thing to happen all day.
Ye Xiu smiled wider. Zhang Xinjie stared impassively back as he approached at a sedate pace.
The welcoming party made way, and Zhang Xinjie offered Ye Xiu a respectful (but not too respectful) bow of his head. “I’m a minute late to greet you. Please accept my personal apology, as well as my apology on behalf of the king.”
“I only just arrived.”
Zhang Xinjie ignored him. “There are too many state affairs to attend to, so His Majesty will see you at dinner, in…” Zhang Xinjie tipped his head to the side. “Four hours. Until then, I’ll have the pleasure of guiding you on a tour.”
“I see,” Ye Xiu said mildly. “This is the first time in many years that I’ve undergone a…significant change in my lifestyle. I’m somewhat at a loss. Where should I put my things?” Ye Xiu gestured at the paltry luggage stowed in the back of his carriage. Or rather, the carriage that had been provided for him after Tao Xuan’s dropped him and Su Mucheng off near the border just outside Tyrtell.
“They will be taken to your rooms immediately, of course.” Zhang Xinjie waved his hand at one of the courtiers or whoever they were, and they immediately called out to someone in the courtyard. A moment later, eight servants manifested from behind the columns lining the outside of the courtyard and all but charged at the carriage.
Goodness! Had they been hiding back there? What kind of place was this?
“How convenient. And what about Su Mucheng’s things?” Ye Xiu pointed at a donkey cart, all but packed with colorful wooden chests.
“They will be handled as well. If you will come with me?”
A few minutes later, Su Mucheng was at Ye Xiu’s side, they were within Skystone Castle, and no blood had been shed. Zhang Xinjie was a gracious host, though he visibly lacked enthusiasm. Nonetheless, he answered their questions with satisfying, if brief, explanations.
In truth, it was Su Mucheng doing most of the asking. Ye Xiu was possibly even less enthused than Zhang Xinjie, though he assumed nobody would think much of it. It would be stranger if he were eager, wouldn’t it? After all, nobody in their right minds would believe Ye Xiu wanted to be here.
* * *
Ye Xiu’s personal quarters were right next to the king’s. Somehow, this came as a surprise.
“Looks to me like the king is not planning on avoiding his consort,” Su Mucheng said in a sing-song voice.
Ye Xiu stared out the window, blank-faced and steeped in confusion. “Apparently not. Maybe I should be glad to be assigned personal quarters at all.”
Su Mucheng seemed to falter at that. “Well, it’s only proper.”
“How are your rooms in the family wing?” Ye Xiu asked, turning to face her.
“I like them. It’s strange to me that the royal wing and the family wing are separate. Wouldn’t anybody who is family be royal by default?”
“Remember that Han Wenqing earned his crown,” Ye Xiu said. “Probably the only people who would count as royal would be his offspring.”
“And his husband.”
Ye Xiu barely held back a snort. From noble heir to general to royal consort… Could he be considered an example of somebody who rose above their natural station? Even as a prodigious child, he had never been taught to expect sentiment in marriage. Most likely he would be matched up with another noble whose achievements complemented his, or whose family possessed something of worth—or so he’d been told, back when his parents still had hope of matching him up with anyone.
His parents… Ye Xiu wondered what they would think of Han Wenqing. What they would think of this place. They were not coming to the wedding, he knew; it was possible they would never come to Tyrtell at all. Maybe his brother would, though.
With a sigh, he turned from the window and faced the cavernous bedroom. The canopied bed, the thick pillows, the finely carved bedside tables… It looked as if everything had been arranged for him. There wasn’t even any lingering dust that he could see, and the bedspread looked clean.
Ye Xiu didn’t know what to make of it. That Han Wenqing would prepare for his arrival was a given, but his set of rooms was almost unbearably cozy and luxurious.
He was born a noble, yet all his most significant life experiences were linked to his status as a general. Ye Xiu had lived in squalor and in opulence, depending on military conditions and Tao Xuan’s favor. Was Han Wenqing expecting a man of refined tastes? A fragile highborn that needed to be doted upon?
Su Mucheng, seated in an armchair in the corner, pursed her lips at his expression. “They’ll call us for dinner soon. Why don’t you lie down and rest for a bit?”
“Rest? I’ve hardly done anything to warrant a nap.”
“Just let your aching old-man muscles experience the comfort of a real bed after so many days on the road,” she urged.
Ye Xiu shot her an exasperated glance, but there was really nothing better to do. He’d gotten his tour and had a good look around; now it was the other side’s move.
He approached the tall bed and lowered his rump gingerly onto the mattress. The way it cushioned his weight was perfection. Ye Xiu crawled the rest of the way on and stretched out his (admittedly) aching limbs.
“Satisfactory?” Su Mucheng asked.
“Quite.” Ye Xiu gazed up at the canopy for a minute, then closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and out, and tried to relax.
It was easier than he expected.
* * *
Dinnertime arrived.
Ye Xiu and Su Mucheng were led by a butler to a large (but not obscenely large) dining room. The table was set for three people, though it could sit twelve in total. A few curious glances around told Ye Xiu that this was most likely a private dining room and not of courtly significance.
Ye Xiu wondered if Han Wenqing ate here every day. It seemed a bit pointless to him. If the man was so busy, he probably took his meals wherever he could. This castle was so large that walking anywhere was a minor trial, and he’d been told that this tower was primarily residential in nature.
Only a few minutes passed before the first course was served. Su Mucheng’s eyes were wide with surprise and a bit of dismay as the dishes were placed between them.
Ye Xiu didn’t have any opinions about it. He listened to the butler describe the contents of each dish, then nodded in dismissal when it became clear that the man wouldn’t leave otherwise. Then he and Su Mucheng were alone.
“He’s not coming,” she said quietly. “Is he?”
With a calm murmur of assent, Ye Xiu dug in. He was rather hungry.
“That’s…” Su Mucheng drifted off, watched him for a moment, and followed his example.
When he saw that her mouth was full, Ye Xiu offered, “He could just be running late.”
Su Mucheng shrugged and refused to meet his gaze. The rest of dinner was similarly stiff, and the servants fulfilled their duties with deliberate caution like they were waiting for a reaction—a violent one.
Ye Xiu had no such reaction to give. He was content with the meal and asked the butler to pass along his compliments to the kitchen staff. A little over an hour after stepping out of his rooms, Ye Xiu returned.
Su Mucheng retired to her own quarters. Though it was not yet fully dark outside, it was still late enough to be considered nighttime. It probably wouldn’t be appropriate for Su Mucheng to stay with him, and for now, they were better off avoiding harmful rumors.
Ye Xiu washed up, changed into comfortable bed clothes, and reclined on his bed. It was really to his taste, this bed. Instead of settling under the covers, however, he pulled a quilt from a chest in the corner and threw it over his legs. With the mountainous pillows propped against the headboard to support his back, he settled in to read a book plucked from a shelf in the sitting room.
About two hours passed in such a peaceful manner, before the sound of a door opening nearby alerted him to a guest.
Ye Xiu didn’t move.
Faint footsteps approached, closer and closer, until a shadowed figure appeared at the half-open bedroom door.
Ye Xiu looked up then, though his face remained tilted toward the book. He knew the torchlight must glint in his eyes, ensuring his scrutiny would be felt.
His visitor pushed the door open the rest of the way.
Han Wenqing’s expression was cold, and his gaze guarded. He studied Ye Xiu like he’d encountered a strange and potentially dangerous specimen hiding in his boot.
The tension was enough to make the average war veteran sweat. Neither of them was the average anything.
“Your Majesty,” Ye Xiu greeted first. “I wasn’t sure if you would come.” He set his book aside as if inviting a proper conversation. “Should we call for tea…?”
“No need.” Boldly, Han Wenqing came toward the bed and sat down near Ye Xiu’s feet. With such casual proximity, anyone watching from afar might believe them friends.
What was this? Some kind of intimidation tactic? Ye Xiu’s fingers twitched.
“How are you finding the castle?” Han Wenqing asked, sounding out the words with great deliberation.
Ye Xiu stroked the quilt. Han Wenqing’s gaze flicked to his hand for a moment, watching the way it traced over his thigh, then returned to his face. “It’s quite something. I believe I’ll enjoy living here.”
If Han Wenqing was taken aback by that answer, he didn’t show it. “I’m relieved to hear it. I want to apologize for neglecting you today. There were too many things to do, and I only just had dinner. Your first day in Skystone should have gone differently.”
“I’m not offended,” Ye Xiu said. “Matters of the state must come first. I understand that a king won’t have time to waste on trivial affairs.”
“You believe welcoming my future husband to his new home is a trivial affair?”
“We have a lifetime of marriage ahead of us,” Ye Xiu replied with a consoling smile. “What’s one day compared to that?”
Han Wenqing searched his face for signs of duplicity, but Ye Xiu would die before revealing any. Furthermore, he was only speaking the truth. That he was only meeting with Han Wenqing now, at the very end of the day, was neither strange nor a burden. That Han Wenqing cared about it at all— that was strange.
Perhaps this was the ideal time to outline his expectations.
“In the future, I hope you do not feel obligated to treat me any particular way. This is not a love match, and I am well aware of that. I will honor our marriage vows for the sake of peace.” Ye Xiu inclined his head solemnly. “And for the sake of peace, I will play the role you want me to play. I refuse to be an obstacle in your path. Please overlook me as you see fit.”
Silence. Han Wenqing’s eyebrows rose then lowered again, and his already chilly features arranged themselves into a scowl.
“Did you practice that speech the entire way here,” he asked, “or did you make it up just now?”
“I’ve been mulling it over for a while,” Ye Xiu conceded, daring to smile again. “Why? Is it not to your satisfaction? Or is it that you don’t believe me?”
“Do you know why I proposed this marriage?” Han Wenqing asked abruptly.
“I won’t presume to know every reason why,” was Ye Xiu’s answer, clearly implying that he knew something or other.
“Maybe that was the wrong question. Why did you accept?”
Ye Xiu tilted his head to one side. For half a minute, the single sound in the room was the faint crackling of the torches.
In an alarmingly swift movement, Han Wenqing stood from the bed. He regarded Ye Xiu for just a moment, scowl still in place, said, “Good night,” and turned his back.
Ye Xiu’s fingers clenched the quilt when the bedroom door closed, only to loosen when the outside door opened and shut again. He slowly exhaled, inhaled, exhaled…
Fighting a battle wasn’t as unnerving as this. He’d been more relaxed during border skirmishes.
The spot on the bed where Han Wenqing had sat reeked of his piercing alpha scent. Ye Xiu wished his nose wasn’t so sensitive, then congratulated himself for maintaining his usual habit of concealing his own scent. He didn’t know what would have happened if Han Wenqing could smell him just now—if it would have been a temptation or…
Ye Xiu shook his head and finally got under the sheets. It was barely summer, and the weather was warm, yet in this castle, in this room, a layer of coldness seemed to blanket everything.
He didn’t regret coming here. But he asked himself—not for the first time—if there had been a better way to leave Tao Xuan’s service.
* * *
Han Wenqing strode into the dining room with intent on his face.
Nobody even announced him. One should not underestimate the importance of such formalities. Ye Xiu only paused mid-chew, but poor Su Mucheng nearly coughed up her food.
“I won’t be able to stay long,” Han Wenqing said, presumably in apology, “but I’ll join you both while I can. Su Mucheng, is it?”
Han Wenqing knew full well who she was, but Su Mucheng nodded at him anyway and was about to rise to pay proper respect. It was then that Ye Xiu remembered he should have stood up as well. This wasn’t his bedroom, after all.
But Han Wenqing waved a dismissive hand at them both and took a seat at the head of the table, directly beside them. Servants rushed at him, laying out the appropriate dishes with flawless grace.
“The marriage ceremony will be held four days from now,” Han Wenqing told Ye Xiu a few awkward minutes later. “Might I make a request before then?”
“Of course,” Ye Xiu replied.
“Don’t hide your scent. Dilute it, if that’s your preference, but don’t hide it.”
Ye Xiu thought of all his scent-neutralizing products, laboriously acquired at great expense. “What prompted this? If I may ask, Your Majesty,” he added belatedly.
“Not being able to smell you properly displeases me. Besides that, some people in this castle—in this city—might interpret your choices creatively.”
He just had to go and tell Han Wenqing that he wouldn’t be an obstacle, hadn’t he? In light of the assurances he’d made, Ye Xiu could only agree.
Han Wenqing nodded at him, looking satisfied, then engaged Su Mucheng in a brief conversation about her opinion of Skystone. He finished off his food surprisingly quickly and made his exit without annoying Ye Xiu any further.
Su Mucheng took one look at his face and snorted with laughter. “Your genius plan to be the invisible and accommodating husband backfired, didn’t it?”
It wasn’t something that should be discussed in the open, so Ye Xiu only huffed at her. Anyway, she wasn’t wrong.
* * *
“I’m curious about something,” Ye Xiu confessed that night when Han Wenqing came to see him again. “How did you find out I was an omega? And the matter of my name?”
This time, they were chatting in the sitting room, which was far more appropriate than a conversation on the bed. Han Wenqing, it turned out, did have some respect for propriety. Whatever had possessed him to push his luck the previous night… Well, for the king’s own sake, Ye Xiu hoped it wouldn’t happen again.
Han Wenqing grunted, his gaze directed at the teacup in his hand. “The last time we met, you weren’t in good condition. I noticed something odd then. I had my people investigate in the aftermath.”
Ye Xiu raised his eyebrows. “Spies?” he asked mildly.
Han Wenqing merely made a dismissive noise. May as well be confirmation—but then, what nation didn’t have spies squirreled away in neighboring courts? This day and age were not encouraging of trust.
Intrigued, Ye Xiu thought back to his last meeting with Han Wenqing. It had been another battlefield encounter, but not a particularly alarming one. Ye Xiu had arrived after the end of a half-hearted skirmish, hoping to determine what caused it—Eracent’s forces had already been subdued weeks prior and Tao Xuan was finally relenting—only to cross paths with Han Wenqing.
It was somewhat unusual for Han Wenqing to be at the border when things were quiet. But he was titled the Warrior King of Tyrtell and so didn’t shy away from the battlefield the way most beta monarchs did. It wasn’t strictly unheard of him to visit contested territories. Memory placed him on horseback, his figure silhouetted against the overcast sky. Ye Xiu had been on foot, his armor weighing heavy.
They had not noticed each other at once. Mired in thought, an unnamed instinct urged Ye Xiu to look up from the trampled grass and there was his enemy king, flanked on both sides by elite Tyrtellian soldiers—probably other enhanced. Han Wenqing saw him at almost the exact same moment.
Nothing happened.
The distance yawned between them like a gaping maw waiting to snap shut around their worn bodies. Neither of them was willing to wade into the trap. Instead, they stared at each other, watching for signs of impending danger.
But no such sign came, so still, nothing happened.
The spine-chilling thrill that accompanied the threat of disaster faded. Ye Xiu, drained and wary, didn’t quite dare to turn his back on Han Wenqing, yet he didn’t lift his lance, either. And Han Wenqing, as if in acknowledgment, dipped his chin in his direction. A silent agreement snapped into place, and Ye Xiu returned to the nearest outpost without any new injuries or diplomatic disasters to report.
How could such an uneventful encounter have led to a marriage proposal?
The mystery gripped him. “What did you notice at that time? My scent, perhaps?” The products he used to neutralize his scent weren’t flawless, and if his condition was bad enough and he’d endured a long period without rest, his designation would eventually become apparent.
To his surprise, Han Wenqing nodded.
Ye Xiu nearly gaped. “Really?”
“It wasn’t just that—it was so faint. I thought I might be imagining it, except no one accompanying me was an omega, and everyone else was dead.”
Yes, the smell of corpses did tend to be overpowering. “Then what else?”
“The way you held yourself. You were alone, whereas I had a small guard with me—you should have been defensive. You should have turned around and walked away. But you stayed, and looked at me, and it felt like seeing you for the first time. And it was you. Not General Ye Qiu, but someone completely different.”
Ye Xiu frowned. How could that be? Alone or not, Ye Xiu was always Ye Xiu. General Ye Qiu wasn’t an act, it was a name.
“I wanted to know who that person was,” Han Wenqing went on. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I ordered the investigation.”
“Not because I was an omega?”
Han Wenqing shook his head. He set the empty teacup down on the table between them. “Is there anything else you’re curious about?”
Many things, in fact, and none of it easy to put into words. Ye Xiu closed his eyes and said, “Regardless of what your investigation uncovered, you don’t really know anything about who I am.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Ye Xiu chose to ignore that. “What you said to me yesterday gives me the impression that I’ve been operating under false assumptions. Besides politics, is there another reason for you to marry me?”
“There is.”
Ye Xiu straightened. “Well?”
Han Wenqing watched him idly. “You have honor and I like the way you fight. You’re also an extremely competent commander.”
“…Is that all?” And why did he have to use such a bland tone of voice?
“These are qualities I find important in a partner. If you want more compliments, you’ll have to earn them.”
Disbelief crowded Ye Xiu’s senses. “Really now? What if I just want you to tell me I have pretty eyes? Should I bat my lashes at you?”
“No need,” Han Wenqing huffed. “You do have pretty eyes. Golden and sharp. Anyone can tell you that.”
“Dare I ask if you’re attracted to me?”
“Concerning your physical appearance, I have no complaints. Your ideas could use some work, though.”
Ye Xiu rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. He could feel a headache coming on. Han Wenqing better not make these nightly chats a regular occurrence. “What ideas?”
“I don’t want you to play any roles.” Han Wenqing sneered as if the very notion was offensive. “You are the royal consort, and we will be lawfully wedded soon. There hasn’t been anyone with your status in hundreds of years. You don’t have to act like a royal consort, because a royal consort is whatever you are.”
“This…” Ye Xiu stared. “You’re rather charming, aren’t you?”
Han Wenqing’s lips twitched. “You’re the first to say so.”
“I suppose you want to share my bed on our wedding night.”
Now it was Han Wenqing’s turn to stare.
“I’ll allow it.” Ye Xiu narrowed his eyes. “But consider it a challenge, not a concession. You know alphas need to prove themselves in every regard, so I won’t make promises as to the outcome.”
“You’re open to persuasion, though?” Han Wenqing asked, his eyes taking on a heated quality.
“I’m open to persuasion,” Ye Xiu confirmed. “Just remember that my bite is much worse than my bark.”
* * *
Wedding preparations were exactly as dull as Ye Xiu had imagined. Perhaps even duller.
Zhang Xinjie made many appearances during this time, whereas Han Wenqing made himself scarce. Ye Xiu assumed he was attending to his side of things, which, in conjunction with his regular duties, had probably overcrowded his schedule. Whatever the reason, Ye Xiu wasn’t attached enough to take offense.
As Ye Xiu had no family members to refer to, Su Mucheng rose to the occasion, and Zhang Xinjie assured that everything was done according to proper procedure. He took Ye Xiu all over the castle for fittings, rehearsals, and even study sessions, where he received tutoring on several matters. The culture gap between Tyrtell’s high society and Eracent’s was mostly negligible, but many high-ranking individuals would be present at the wedding, and Ye Xiu had to put his best foot forward if he wanted to live in peace.
“Most people, especially courtiers, respect the king enough not to purposely embarrass his spouse,” Zhang Xinjie explained, matter-of-fact. “Your reputation should also offer a degree of protection. But fools will be fools, so you should know enough not to fall into their traps and become a fool yourself.”
Ye Xiu squinted. “Very uplifting. And what do you mean by my reputation offering protection?”
“The name of General Ye Qiu is famous throughout the continent; Tyrtell is hardly a special case. Oh, some people might ask why you want to be called Ye Xiu now. They might not know it’s your real name.”
“I’ll just tell them," Ye Xiu said unconcernedly. He didn’t feel like explaining anything about his name choices. The real Ye Qiu was a slight existence compared to General Ye Qiu, but mentioning his family too much might draw attention to them. And though his family was prestigious, they had always stayed out of the public eye—which was why he got away with calling himself Ye Qiu at all, actually.
(His brother didn’t care, and understood the gesture as that of a favored enhanced sibling breaking free of the yoke of his clan and bringing a piece of his oppressed beta sibling with him. His parents were considerably less romantic. They’d also confirmed through unofficial channels that they weren’t coming to the wedding.)
“Very well. The style of this shirt seems to suit you best,” Zhang Xinjie commented.
Ye Xiu looked down at himself, then studied his reflection in the body-length mirror propped before him. “It’ll do.” Fashion was honestly the dullest part of all this.
The tailor prodded at him a bit more, dictated some notes for his assistant to jot down, and then released him from his clutches. Ye Xiu redressed behind the screens in the corner and, when he came out, Zhang Xinjie immediately headed to the study they’d been using lately.
In many regards, Ye Xiu had gotten off easy when it came to this wedding nonsense. It had been obvious from the start that most of the preparations had been made without him, and all he had to do was pose in front of mirrors and memorize what to do during the ceremony. The study sessions with Zhang Xinjie were easy to follow—Ye Xiu was no stranger to politics—so even though he was busy, he still had time to himself. Since he was rather unused to all this liveliness, those handful of hours were crucial to maintaining a steady state of mind.
Su Mucheng did not fail to notice his worsening temper. “Meditating again?”
Ye Xiu didn’t move from his spot on the rug. “Yes.”
“It’s good that this will be over tomorrow. Today was the busiest yet.” Su Mucheng plopped down in front of him, her familiar scent washing over him. “The king is quite generous, though. I’m going to look very pretty on your special day.”
“You always look very pretty.” Ye Xiu opened his eyes at last. Su Mucheng was sitting with her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her expression was a bit droopy. Tiredness, he assumed.
“Zhang Xinjie told me that you won’t be disturbed in the morning until you need to get dressed. I do believe he’s trying to look out for you, hopeless endeavor though it is.”
“Pretty and prickly.”
“Out with it.” Humor brightened Su Mucheng’s features. “Did you scare him while you were studying? Did you cut at him with your keen wit?”
“It was just a little growling. He got too close,” Ye Xiu said airily.
That caught Su Mucheng by surprise. “Ah, well…maybe it’s because too many people have been touching you and surrounding you lately. You’ll get used it, I’m sure. The servants here are very conscientious.”
Ye Xiu agreed, but in the past two days especially, he was bothered every time he saw one. The servants were all betas, naturally, and only the very sensitive ones could detect his unrest. Since Ye Xiu had never been territorial about anything—not even during his suppressed heats—he wasn’t sure how to address it without alienating the entire castle staff.
“Maybe…you can talk to Han Wenqing about it?” Su Mucheng said tentatively.
“Can I?” Ye Xiu said, but not like he was seriously considering it.
“Why not? He sleeps right down the hall.”
“He’s probably not here.”
“You won’t know until you try,” Su Mucheng said. “Besides, his scent was fresh outside your door.”
That was interesting. Ye Xiu was unmoved, however, and merely reminded Su Mucheng that all of this would be over and done with tomorrow, just like she’d said.
Su Mucheng frowned at him but didn’t bring the topic up again. She accompanied him in meditation for a while, put a book in his hands, and returned to her rooms.
Ye Xiu read until his eyes ached, then dropped right off to sleep.
* * *
Morning ushered in sunny weather and a refreshing breeze. Ye Xiu left his bedroom window cracked open and went to breakfast with a tranquil heart. Su Mucheng was at the table; Han Wenqing wasn’t. They ate in relative silence, ignoring the anticipatory energy the servants leaked everywhere.
When they were done, Su Mucheng told him, “Good luck,” and, after a moment’s hesitation, added, “Have somebody fetch me if you need me.”
Ye Xiu smiled and nodded. Her concern was touching but unnecessary; he was in a good mood. He wasn’t even nervous.
“I’ll see you later, then,” Su Mucheng said finally, her eyes flicking all over his face. They parted ways outside the dining room, and Ye Xiu gladly retreated to his quarters.
A servant crossed his path in the hallway nearby. Ye Xiu heard him coming from around the corner and neatly positioned himself to avoid a collision, but the servant wasn’t so astute. When Ye Xiu appeared before him, he was visibly startled, and even apologized.
“It’s all right,” Ye Xiu said, bemused, and made to move around the bowing figure.
Displaying admirable flexibility, the servant bowed even deeper. “Please excuse me. May this one assist Your Highness in any way?”
“I don’t need anything at the moment.”
The servant finally straightened, though his eyes and chin remained lowered. “This one has a skill for simple neck and shoulder massages.”
Ye Xiu’s eyebrows twitched. “That’s good to know.”
“Would Your Highness enjoy a massage?”
“Some other time,” Ye Xiu dismissed, wanting to be on his way.
“It would be very relaxing. Your Highness must be feeling uneasy before the wedding.” The servant blinked up at him for a moment. “This one would be glad to be of assistance.”
Ye Xiu stared at him, and the servant immediately avoided his gaze again in a proper show of submission. An indistinct image of him wrapping his hand around this man’s throat and flinging him to the floor coalesced in his mind.
Such a simple and base urge would normally be shunted away as soon as it occurred, but for some reason, Ye Xiu lingered on it. The image became more detailed as he thought it over; not only the way such a scenario would unfold, but how satisfying it would be, how right.
Ye Xiu stared and stared. As the servant hunched his shoulders and bowed again, the temptation to attack and subdue stroked down his spine like a caressing hand, setting off all his senses.
His head swiveled to the right and he saw Han Wenqing striding down the hall from the direction of the dining room. The temptation transformed into an imperative, aimed straight at his husband-to-be.
Alpha scents tended to do that to feral omegas. In the rush of instinctive aggression, everything and everyone else was forgotten. The servant was insignificant; offensive but ultimately harmless. The alpha coming toward him was tangibly dangerous in a way no beta could ever be.
Ye Xiu turned his entire body to face the oncoming threat.
The scent of a feral omega was nothing strange to an experienced alpha, and thankfully did not trigger an equally aggressive response. Han Wenqing’s pace slowed as he approached, hands clenched into fists. When he stopped (well outside of reach), he ignored the menace in Ye Xiu’s golden eyes and took in the situation with a cool expression.
On one side of the hallway, Ye Xiu, a predator eager to lash out, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
On the other, a cowering servant who radiated fear.
Han Wenqing’s body language remained neutral. He consciously relaxed his hands, unbent his fingers. Ye Xiu’s eyes drifted between his face and the center of his body, watching for a cue.
Han Wenqing didn’t give him one. In the silence, he told the servant, “Keep to the wall and come slowly over here. Once you’re past me, you can run if you want. He won’t chase you. It’s only a minor episode.”
“I-I’m sorry… Your Majesty… I didn’t…”
“Hurry up.”
The servant did as he was told, moving slowly at first and then taking off. Ye Xiu only glanced at him now and then to track his progress, but the bulk of his attention was centered on Han Wenqing.
He ought to be flattered.
“Your staff,” Ye Xiu said, voice low, “can be quite troublesome.”
“I apologize. The people who work in this tower rarely come in contact with enhanced individuals besides myself and Zhang Xinjie.”
Ye Xiu sighed and turned his head to the side. “Did you think I was going to do something?”
Han Wenqing grunted. “Were you?”
“Heh. No. I wouldn’t have touched him.” Ye Xiu waved a hand as if to shoo the idea away, finally calm enough to make eye contact again. “I was only a bit peeved. Don’t mind it.”
“Is this the part where you insist your temper is better than this and demurely assure me that you’ll only be a good husband from now on?”
“Would you like me to?” Ye Xiu asked, fascinated.
Han Wenqing snorted at him. Ye Xiu’s lips curled upward in a faint smirk.
The humorous mood came and went, and Han Wenqing sobered quickly. “This shouldn’t have happened. The servants will receive retraining. Is there anything in particular that set you off?”
“Just…” Ye Xiu hesitated, then explained, “I’m unused to this. It’s been years since I’ve had so many people around me, watching me. Even in the army, I wore armor, masks…”
“You’re used to barriers,” Han Wenqing finished for him. “And space. You take care of yourself.”
Ye Xiu nodded, and compared to the blatant aggression of before, he was markedly serene now, like baring his struggles to Han Wenqing was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Again, I apologize,” Han Wenqing said with an expression of realization.
Again, Ye Xiu nodded; he was helpless to do anything else. An apology of his own might have been appropriate, but something in him refused to open his mouth. He was a tiger from the mountains who’d been let loose in this city—of course he would be out of sorts! Of course some silly servant would get on his nerves!
This man who claimed to want him should have known this, the omega in him insisted. That he didn’t was his own fault. And if Ye Xiu had hurt someone—
No. He shook his head. That would never happen.
With a deep sigh, Han Wenqing gathered himself and gestured in the direction of Ye Xiu’s personal quarters. “Let me accompany you back to your rooms.”
Ye Xiu accepted the offer silently. The two of them walked side by side down the hallway, fingers barely brushing.
Han Wenqing left him at the door with a pensive cast to his face. After Ye Xiu entered, he turned back to look at him for a moment, mouth open to bid farewell, but the words died in his throat.
Their gazes were steady on each other. Neither said anything.
It took a while for him to shut the door.
* * *
The morning was gone before Ye Xiu knew it, and so was his (already shaky) peace of mind. The composure he had pulled over himself like a winter cloak was almost too flimsy to stand up to the ruthless winds of a royal wedding.
Thankfully, this part wasn’t too hard on him: the work of recent days had had a purpose, after all. He dressed the way he was expected to dress, then behaved the way he had been instructed to behave. The ceremony was straightforward, but attention to detail was necessary at times—the wording of his vows, the angle of his chin, the movements of his hands, all of them required a certain flare. But Ye Xiu was good at detail work, and he had rehearsed everything he must do. He spoke well, his tone conveying his reverence for Tyrtellian customs and his new husband, and in the end, he was rewarded with applause and approving gazes.
Han Wenqing placed a hand on his lower back carefully. “You did well.” It was said quietly enough not to carry even in the grand celebration hall.
“Naturally.” Ye Xiu allowed himself to be led to where he next needed to go: the extravagant luncheon about to take place in the courtyard.
Not only the celebration hall’s tower, but the entire castle was decorated according to the Tyrtellian wedding tradition. Typical wedding parties lasted five or six hours; the extravagant ones went on for ten or more. Any space that could be used to entertain guests would be used to their fullest. The guests of a Tyrtellian wedding were like family for a day, and no expense should be spared to please them. The more memorable and unique the experience, the more honorable the spouses’ families.
The royal family obviously didn’t lag behind anyone in terms of wealth or honor, so though the ceremony was only a half-hour long, the party extended well into the night. Han Wenqing and Ye Xiu departed for their wedding bed before it was over.
They were sent off with much aplomb and good-natured teasing. Nothing that defied propriety, given the identities of the newlyweds, but humorous all the same. Ye Xiu had been prepared for this, so he wasn’t too put off, although such a custom had never been observed in any Eracenti wedding he’d attended (not that he’d attended many).
He was tired, however, and he felt that Han Wenqing was, too. When they made it back to the residential tower, he wasn’t expecting much.
But instead of retiring to his own quarters, Han Wenqing followed Ye Xiu into his. And then they just…stared at each other.
Ye Xiu decided he didn’t have the patience for this. “You really want to?”
“You said I could share your bed,” Han Wenqing retorted, sounding almost defensive.
“I didn’t realize you desired me so much,” Ye Xiu said wryly.
Han Wenqing’s eyes dropped slightly.
Ye Xiu glanced down at himself. Yes, fine, he’d admit his wedding garb was almost excessively flattering. The rich red underlaid with black, the accents of white and gleaming yellow. The gold jewelry draped over his chest and adorning his wrists. The circlet placed delicately on his head, drawing attention to the softness of his hair.
Ye Xiu had shed his veil and overcoat long ago; wearing so many layers following the ceremony wasn’t necessary when the weather was so pleasantly warm. He wouldn’t have been able to enjoy himself much during the festivities otherwise. He was sweaty enough thanks to all these other layers.
With a steadying breath, Ye Xiu warned, “I’ll probably need a bath first. You’re wearing almost as much as me; maybe you should freshen up, too.”
Han Wenqing let out an incredulous scoff. “Are you saying I stink?”
He didn’t, actually. His scent was stronger than normal, which was why Ye Xiu suspected anything in the first place. Besides, nobody could be expected not to sweat with all that sunshine.
“You smell good,” Ye Xiu replied honestly.
A pause. “Then maybe I’ll just stay like this. You smell good, too.”
“Do I?”
Han Wenqing nodded, then stepped closer to draw his fingers gently along the back of Ye Xiu’s neck, just below his hairline. “Before this, whenever we met, you’d usually be sweaty. Bloody, too.”
“As expected of someone in my position,” murmured Ye Xiu, withholding a shiver.
“As expected,” Han Wenqing agreed. He pulled back, but the cessation of his touch was meaningless when he was this close. “This is what I’m used to.”
Ye Xiu watched him intently. “Just how far do you want to go tonight?”
“I don’t ask for much. For us to become mates in truth will take time; we can save the biting for when we’re more acquainted.” Han Wenqing leaned in the slightest bit, until his breath mingled with Ye Xiu’s. “But I want to be inside you. Will you let me?”
“That…” Ye Xiu mulled it over, biting his lip. He hadn’t thought Han Wenqing would be so forward, but… “I suppose I did offer myself to begin with.”
Maybe he liked this kind of forwardness.
Han Wenqing let out a small, rough sound, and shifted into the barely-there space separating them. His lips touched Ye Xiu’s, chaste as anything, only to withdraw before Ye Xiu could muster up a proper reaction beyond surprised stillness.
“Tell me,” Ye Xiu said after taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “Since when did you want me?”
“I don’t know,” Han Wenqing replied in a low voice, eyes pinned on his lips. “I just knew it when I felt it. But I ignored it, first because we were enemies, then because the situation seemed too unstable. After I saw you at the border…”
“You believed I was an alpha, though.”
“It didn’t matter.” Han Wenqing wrinkled his brow. “I know committed relationships between alphas are uncommon in Eracent, but here, they’re rather mundane.”
“Hmm. In that case…” Ye Xiu smiled. Even as Han Wenqing’s hands rested on his waist, Ye Xiu raised his arms to wrap gently around Han Wenqing’s neck. “Did you imagine…fighting me? Proving yourself to me? Pushing me down and having your way?”
“I did,” Han Wenqing growled. “I still do.”
Ye Xiu laughed. This was excellent; better than he had imagined. “I never thought there would be an alpha so bold.”
“And I never thought there would be an omega so desirable,” Han Wenqing retorted, his hands tightening. “It’s your own fault. You’ve tempted me too much.”
“By threatening your life?”
“By being so strong.” Han Wenqing sounded like he desperately wanted to steal another kiss. “You’re a warrior that other warriors dream of. Who wouldn’t want to have you as a mate, even if just for a day?”
Ye Xiu’s breath caught. The desire, the lust in Han Wenqing’s gaze left no room for debate; he was telling the truth as he saw it. And what he saw was power, skill, years and years of experience on the battlefield—everything that made Ye Xiu who he was. Everything that made him frightening, that made him into a legend his people both praised and flinched from.
What so many rejected and feared about Ye Xiu, Han Wenqing coveted.
He didn’t understand, and at the time same, he understood perfectly. Han Wenqing wanted to possess him, which was nothing new. Han Wenqing wanted to use his body, which also wasn’t new. It was only the context that had changed, yet that made all the difference.
Ye Xiu didn’t understand, but he decided he could live with that.
* * *
The festivities had ended hours ago, but a certain lightness remained in Skystone, wreathing the morning after the wedding in blissful lassitude.
Ye Xiu woke slowly. Awareness came and went; he didn’t try to cling to it. His limbs were loose and relaxed, and his current position was indescribably comfortable.
He knew Han Wenqing was with him, of course. He couldn’t forget it for a second, what with how his scent bathed the bed and Ye Xiu himself, how his warmth pressed into Ye Xiu’s back and sank into his skin. Perhaps it was because of the wedding that Han Wenqing hadn’t left to attend to his kingly duties, but surely someone should have called for him by now?
Oh, well. Ye Xiu didn’t mind him, and if nobody had come to wake them, it could only be because they weren’t supposed to. Apparently even the king got a day off for his wedding.
Now that he thought about it, no one had told him much about what to expect after saying his vows.
Ye Xiu huffed, the feeling of relaxation draining from him. He stared at the thin shafts of sunlight streaking in past the curtains and tried to ignore his growing tension.
The body behind him shifted. The movement itself was soft, unhurried, but Ye Xiu was alert enough that it immediately drew his attention.
He was whipping around to bare his teeth at his husband before it occurred to him that Han Wenqing was his husband.
Said husband blinked at him. “Good morning.”
“…Morning.”
To his credit, Han Wenqing immediately deduced what was going on. His hand rose, not too slowly nor too quickly, and warm fingers brushed against Ye Xiu’s throat. Unthreatening, reassuring. There’s nothing to fear from me.
Ye Xiu’s expression abruptly snapped back to neutrality. “Oh dear. I can’t remember the last time someone slept beside me. How embarrassing.”
“Hm.” Han Wenqing watched him for a moment longer before letting his hand fall away. His knuckles bumped into Ye Xiu’s wrist, currently holding most of his weight—had he been about to lunge at Han Wenqing?
That was genuinely embarrassing. What was he, fifteen? He couldn’t keep using the excuse of being unused to all this nonsense, even if it was true. This level of aggression was unwarranted and unseemly.
“I apologize.”
“I expected it.” Han Wenqing tugged at his wrist experimentally, and Ye Xiu let him take it, falling back into the pillows as his arm was pulled out from underneath him.
“You did?” he asked, bemused.
Han Wenqing nodded, lifted Ye Xiu’s hand to his chest, and let it rest atop his collarbone. His fingertips touched the delicate skin at the base of Han Wenqing’s neck, which was nothing short of reckless considering how Ye Xiu had behaved just now.
He was about to pull away when Han Wenqing grabbed his wrist again. He held Ye Xiu’s hand to his body and said, his voice clear and firm, “Leave it there.”
Ye Xiu’s eyebrows rose incrementally.
“Like I was saying,” Han Wenqing went on, ignoring the look on his face, “I expected it. Why did you accept my marriage proposal?”
Ye Xiu blinked. “What?”
Han Wenqing refused to repeat himself.
“What’s this all of a sudden?” Ye Xiu demanded. He’d always had a good understanding of Warrior King Han Wenqing, but it seemed that his husband Han Wenqing was a different animal entirely.
“I’ve already asked before, so please answer me this time. And be honest.”
“Why would I lie?” he mused. “Isn’t it obvious besides? This is a better way to keep the peace than any we’ve had in decades. Whether they’re Tyrtellians or Eracenti, everyone loves a marriage and a happy ending.”
“You came here knowing that your real identity would be completely exposed, that your family wouldn’t acknowledge you, that all your friends would most likely be permanently distanced from you, and that the people of my country might struggle to accept you. All you brought were meager belongings and not a single weapon. The guards sent from Tao Xuan’s palace left you in my guards’ care. The only person who accompanied you all this way is Su Mucheng. No loyal servants, no valuables, no—"
“What is your point?”
“You gave up on Tao Xuan. You gave up on Eracent, or your life there. You gave up on General Ye Qiu, the alpha warrior whose name the whole continent recognizes.” Han Wenqing’s eyes stared into his. “I want to know why.”
Ye Xiu opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried to find a way to explain that would make sense without exposing every horrible thing he came all this way to forget.
Han Wenqing was still looking at him intently. The seriousness of the conversation seemed out of place in the warm glow that seeped in from outside.
Finally, Ye Xiu muttered, “It’s not like I was giving up much.”
“It’s your life, Ye Xiu.”
“I know that. But it’s easier to start over than to fix something that’s…” Ye Xiu let out a frustrated noise and flapped his hand. “Something that was wrong from the very beginning. I was fully aware of what I was doing when I agreed to this marriage, so don’t think you need to point out all the specifics to me.”
“Then what you’re saying is that…being here is better than being in Eracent?” Han Wenqing sounded like he couldn’t quite believe it.
Ye Xiu laughed hoarsely. “Han Wenqing. Believe me, there are few things that would have been worse than staying. If you hadn’t proposed, I would have left.”
“You speak of desertion,” Han Wenqing said, his voice quiet. “Or am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong,” Ye Xiu said, and in that moment, he was as bold as he’d never dared to be, surrounded by palace walls and Tao Xuan’s spies. “I would have deserted without any regrets. I don’t expect you to understand.”
A strong hand reached out and grabbed his forearm, gripping it tight enough to bruise. “What was he going to do?”
Ye Xiu blinked.
Han Wenqing leaned toward him, the calmness of before supplanted by grim anger. “What did Tao Xuan want to make you do?”
With a swallow, Ye Xiu said, “Eracent failed to secure a decisive overall victory at the borders. We would have had to fall back and lick our wounds, treaty or no treaty. A general isn’t needed in times of peace, and this failure didn’t aid my political viability any. If war continued, there are some people who can contend with me, or have the potential to. This is just to say that Tao Xuan thought my… He believed I would be of better use elsewhere. He planned to match me up with someone and…”
He couldn’t go on. Han Wenqing looked confused. “An arranged marriage? That’s not uncommon in Eracent, is it?”
“It’s not uncommon anywhere in the Great Kingdoms,” Ye Xiu agreed. “But what Tao Xuan had in mind was…not marriage so much as procreation. He wanted my heirs. Powerful enhanced descendants to ‘carry on my legacy,’ as he put it.”
Han Wenqing’s jaw clenched.
“That’s why this is better.” It was spoken like a confession. “That’s why I agreed. Peace is good—peace is wonderful. But if I can’t have freedom, I’d rather let somebody else have my loyalty.”
“You’re free. Never believe you’re not free.” Han Wenqing shifted across the gap between them and nuzzled Ye Xiu’s cheek. “If you wanted to leave, I wouldn’t keep you here. We can’t dissolve the marriage without causing an uproar, but there are other places you could stay. Places far away from me.”
Ye Xiu was so startled that he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry. Did you just offer to let me run away from you?”
“Even if I didn’t let you, you would still run if you wanted to.” Han Wenqing pulled back a bit, his breathing a bit heavy. The hand that had squeezed his wrist so powerfully just now rose to gently nudge Ye Xiu’s jaw until they faced each other. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to keep you here.”
If Ye Xiu were even slightly more romantic, he would have probably swooned on the spot, even though he was already horizontal. As it was, he felt like his lungs were constricting, his throat closing. In his chest, his heart pounded away just like it did when he was about to fight for his life.
Yet there was none of that urgency. No need to rip and rend. No need to search for openings and weaknesses. Han Wenqing was more vulnerable than ever, but Ye Xiu was happy to let opportunity slip through his fingers.
How many people had acknowledged his strength? How many had surrendered, how many had praised him? Too many to count. The way he was treated in Eracent when he traveled on campaign was downright worshipful, a heady mixture of awe and fear. There were some who dared to claim they could win over him, but no challengers ever came forth.
Ye Xiu knew who he was. He knew what he was capable of. He didn’t require Han Wenqing to clarify the matter. But the way Han Wenqing talked about him—like it was the most natural thing in the world that Ye Xiu did not belong to him, even with the ink on their marriage documents barely dry—had him wanting things he had never dreamed of wanting before.
“You,” Ye Xiu breathed, “really are such a charmer.”
Han Wenqing’s pupils dilated. “Hm? Could it be that you like it when I tell you how impressive I find you?”
“Maybe so.” They were so close together that their lips brushed when they spoke.
With the barest flick of his tongue, Han Wenqing licked Ye Xiu’s bottom lip. “Then maybe I should express how compelling you are? How deeply I respect your power?”
Ye Xiu was nearly dizzied by these words. “Somehow, I feel that certain cultural differences related to flirtation have been neglected in my lessons.”
“What, an alpha suitor doesn’t woo an omega warrior with compliments to their strength where you’re from?”
“The warrior class is somewhat under-appreciated farther south.”
“Absolute savages,” Han Wenqing muttered, and kissed him hungrily.