Chapter 3: The Sound of Defiance

Chapter 3: The Sound of Defiance

For three days, the prince, Zhao Wuxia did not speak to her again.

She was left to wander the inner palace — always trailed by servants, never alone. Everything she touched belonged to someone else unlike back in her kingdom. The robes they gave her weren't hers. The food she ate didn't actually belonged to her place. Even the air felt borrowed like a prisoner being grateful of even being alive.

But she had not been raised to weep behind silk veils.

She had been raised to rule.

One morning, Meilan, her maid, brought her a lacquered scroll.

“A poem contest will be held in the Hall of Autumn Leaves. The court ladies and scholars will attend. His Highness will be there.”

“A contest?” she asked curiously. “What for?”

Meilan hesitated and spoke softly. “It is a tradition among the noble women of Jin... to celebrate the turning of seasons. Wives, concubines, scholars… they compose verses and recite them.”

The princess smiled faintly. “And I, their foreign bride, am to play court decoration?”

Meilan lowered her head. “They may expect you to remain silent.”

But she did not.

She entered the hall with her back straight and eyes lowered just enough to show obedience — not weakness. Robed in deep blue, her hair adorned with her kingdom’s gold phoenix pin, she drew whispers the moment she appeared.

“She dares wear that?”

“She must not know its meaning here.”

“She walks as if her father still sits on a throne.”

The prince sat at the head, as always — unreadable, untouched.

The poets began. Ladies recited verses about plum blossoms and snow, of longing and silk fans. Some were graceful. Some clever. All were safe.

Then it was her turn.

She stepped forward, uninvited.

The room quieted.

She unfurled a scroll of her own, hand-written in a brush style not common in Jin. Her voice, when she read, was calm — but every word struck like a blade.

> “You say I am a fallen moon,

Yet moons do not kneel to clouds.

You laugh at broken roots —

But I have learned how storms carve stone.”

Silence fell like frost.

Even the Prince, Zhao Wuxia looked up.

The room held its breath.

Li Xue bowed, then returned to her place.

No one applauded.

No one dared.

Later, as the crowd dispersed, the prince stopped beside her — the first time he’d done so since the wedding.

“You seem eager to provoke,” he said, low.

She looked at him. “Only those who believe they cannot be.”

Something shifted in his eyes — not warmth. Not anger.

But attention.

That night, Meilan whispered, “You should be careful, you seem not be safe here.”

Li Xue turned toward the window. Outside, the moon sat high, pale and distant.

> “I wasn’t brought here to be safe,” she said. “I was brought here to disappear.”

> “And I refuse.”

 Meilan stood there silently looking at Li Xue with admiration at her bravery

[End of Chapter 3]

[To be continued]

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