Chapter 1: The Feather and the Frost
Chapter 1: The Feather and the Frost
The Imperial Capital was a cage of gilded gold and quiet whispers, but to Lady Bai Yu, it just smelled like a place that desperately needed a good thunderstorm.
For eighteen years, Yu had been raised on the rugged, wind-swept northern borders of the empire. She was the daughter of General Bai, the legendary "Border Wolf," and she was far more comfortable wearing leather armor, riding wild stallions through the mountain passes, and eating roasted rations around a campfire than sitting through a tea ceremony. She was a vanguard commander in her own right, a girl who could track an enemy scout through a blizzard or pin a target to a pine tree from fifty paces away. Her laughter was loud, her dimples were sharp, and her spirit was entirely untamed.
But a single imperial decree from the Emperor had dragged her away from her beloved mountains.
To secure the loyalty of the northern army, an arranged marriage had been struck. Bai Yu was to be wed to the Second Prince of the Realm, Prince Xuan. The court gossiped about him in hushed, fearful tones. They called him the "Icy Prince," a brilliant but ruthless strategist who lived his life behind a wall of absolute imperial frost. He was a man of perfect posture, flawless etiquette, and a heart rumored to be as cold as midnight stone. The nobility expected Yu to be a meek, terrified political pawn, standard fodder for the quiet malice of the capital.
They had no idea what was coming.
On the night before their formal wedding, Yu was confined to the Eastern Palace’s guest pavilion. She was supposed to be meditating, fasting, and reflecting on her future duties as a submissive royal wife.
Instead, her stomach was growling loudly enough to shake the silk curtains.
"If I have to look at another bowl of clear lotus broth, I’m going to chew on the bedposts," Yu muttered to herself, tossing a heavy silk floor cushion into the air and catching it.
She stood up, her dark hair tied back into a loose, messy ponytail. Stripping off the suffocating, heavy satin robes the court matrons had forced her into, she changed into her comfortable, lightweight black northern riding tunic. Slipping her favorite silver dagger into her boot, she looked out the lattice window. The palace gardens were dark, lit only by the silver glow of a crescent moon. The royal guards were on their midnight rotation.
It was the perfect time for a raid.
Yu slipped through the window like a shadow, her boots making absolutely no sound as she hit the grass. She didn't know where the imperial kitchens were, but she let her nose guide her. She bypassed two guard patrols by simply scaling a low stone wall and hiding in the thick branches of a blooming magnolia tree, stifling a giggle as the heavily armored soldiers walked right beneath her.
Within twenty minutes, she had successfully breached the rear window of the imperial kitchens. The room was empty, the hearths glowing with dying embers. Yu’s eyes lit up as she found a pantry stocked with delicacies. She didn't want the fancy, delicate pastries meant for the noble ladies; she went straight for a jar of spicy pickled lotus roots and a beautifully roasted chicken that had been set aside for the morning feast.
Sitting cross-legged right on top of the Emperor's pristine marble prep table, Yu tore a chicken wing off with her fingers, happily stuffing her mouth.
"Not bad," she mumbled around a mouthful of food, her dimples flashing in the dark. "A bit too much sugar, but the capital chefs at least know how to roast a bird."
"Is it standard practice for a northern vanguard to steal poultry from the Son of Heaven?" a voice suddenly spoke from the shadows of the kitchen doorway.
The voice was low, deep, and carried a smooth, terrifyingly cold resonance that made the hairs on Yu’s arms stand up.
Yu didn't panic. Years of battlefield training kicked in instantly. Without dropping her chicken wing, her right hand blurred, reaching into her boot and flicking her silver dagger straight toward the dark doorway.
*THWACK.*
The dagger embedded itself perfectly into the wooden doorframe, exactly one inch away from the neck of the man standing there.
The stranger didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. Slowly, he stepped out of the shadows and into the faint moonlight filtering through the window.
Yu’s breath caught slightly, though she refused to show it. The man was magnificent, but in a way that felt dangerous. He wore flowing, midnight-blue robes embroidered with silver threads that caught the moonlight. His long, dark hair was held up by a flawless silver crown. His face looked as if it had been sculpted from perfect jade, his jawline sharp and unyielding. But it was his eyes that locked her in place—they were a deep, obsidian black, radiating a chilling, imperial frost that could freeze a river.
It was Prince Xuan. Her husband-to-be.
Xuan looked at the silver dagger vibrating in the wood beside his neck, then turned his gaze back to the girl sitting on his kitchen table. She was covered in chicken grease, her hair was a wild nest, and she was staring at him with a pair of wide, intensely bright eyes that held absolutely no fear.
"Your aim is slightly to the left, Lady Bai Yu," Xuan noted dryly, his arms crossing over his chest as he took in the chaotic sight of his future bride.
Yu slowly lowered the chicken wing, a brilliant, incredibly cheeky grin spreading across her face, her dimples deep and mocking. She slid off the table, dusting off her tunic.
"The aim was perfect, Your Highness," Yu smiled, tilting her head back to look him dead in the eye. "If I wanted to kill you, the blade would be through your throat, not your door. Consider it a northern greeting. Now... do you want a wing? There's plenty left, and it's much better than that watery broth your matrons keep feeding me."
Xuan stared at her, the icy mask of his face cracking by a fraction of a millimeter. For the first time in his life, the Crown Prince was completely speechless.
