Accompanied by Honglian and a group of eunuchs and palace maids, Wanqing, dressed in full regalia, made her way to the grand hall where foreign envoys were to be received.
Upon entering, Wanqing immediately noticed her father seated on the dragon throne at the forefront. Though half his face was marred by scars, the lifelike mask she had crafted for him beforehand lent him an air of majesty. Beside him sat two men—one young, the other elderly—both dressed in exotic attire.
Below them stood rows of ministers, with figures like Prince Ning, Leng Mingye, and Prince Ji seated at the front.
“Her Highness, the Princess, has arrived,” announced the accompanying eunuch in a booming voice. Wanqing stepped forward gracefully, offering a respectful bow to her father on the throne.
“This is the renowned Princess Wanqing. Truly a vision of beauty, with an ethereal grace,” a voice remarked.
Before her father could respond, an unfamiliar voice spoke up. Though Wanqing knew it belonged to an envoy from the Bo Kingdom, she couldn’t help but glance up at the speaker.
At first, it was just a casual glance, but to her astonishment, the middle-aged man before her—dressed in foreign garb with a tribal headpiece—wore a faint smile and bore strikingly refined features. In that instant, she felt an inexplicable familiarity, though she couldn’t pinpoint why.
Beside him stood a younger man, not particularly handsome but exuding a rugged, cheerful energy. Noticing her gaze, he offered a polite nod and a slight smile in greeting.
“Qing’er, pay your respects to the King and Prince of the Bo Kingdom,” her father instructed gently, though inwardly puzzled as to why the Empress Dowager had insisted on her presence at this ceremony.
“Qing’er greets His Majesty the King and His Highness the Prince of Bo,” Wanqing said, bowing gracefully. Though unfamiliar with Bo customs, she adhered to the etiquette of the Daqi Empire.
“No need for such formality, Princess. Please rise,” the Bo Prince replied, his cheeks tinged with an odd flush. Had the hall not been so crowded, he might have stepped forward to assist her.
Perplexed by their demeanor and her father’s insistence on her attendance, Wanqing offered a polite smile before taking her seat between her elder brother and Leng Mingye.
“Now that all are present,” the Emperor began, his sharp gaze sweeping the room, “today, Daqi and Bo shall discuss the peace treaty established years ago. As guests from afar, we welcome you. So long as our nations refrain from conflict and coexist peacefully, Daqi shall grant Bo its due benefits.”
This was the purpose of the gathering—a reaffirmation of the peace accord between the two kingdoms. The presence of the Bo King and Prince underscored their sincerity.
“Naturally,” the Bo King replied heartily, rising to his feet. “This aligns with the wishes of both our peoples. Beyond renewing the peace treaty, my son and I have another request. My son has long admired Daqi’s culture and customs. Thus, we propose a marital alliance—my son shall take a noblewoman of Daqi as his consort, while our kingdom offers a princess to wed into Daqi’s royal family.”
“Marital alliance?” The Emperor and Prince Ning exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes flickering toward Wanqing.
Among the noblewomen present, Wanqing was the only princess. The Emperor and Prince Ning both turned to the Empress Dowager, silently questioning her motives for orchestrating this arrangement.
“Indeed, a marital alliance,” the Bo King affirmed with a hearty laugh, clapping his hands. At his signal, a striking young woman clad in crimson, her attire blending elegance with exotic flair, stepped forward.
She bowed deeply in the Bo fashion before the Emperor and Empress Dowager, then announced she would perform a dance to demonstrate her kingdom’s sincerity.
With the Emperor’s approval, she began to dance, her movements fluid and mesmerizing, her red ribbons swirling like flames. Though her performance was undeniably beautiful, Wanqing felt an inexplicable unease. There was something unsettling beneath the grace—a cold, almost spectral hatred lurking in the dancer’s fleeting glances toward her.
The sensation lingered until the dance concluded, the woman halting with a poised smile.
“Exquisite! Truly exquisite!” The Bo King was the first to applaud, prompting the Emperor and others to follow suit.
“Our princess’s dance has clearly enchanted all present,” the Bo King declared proudly, turning to the Emperor expectantly.
The Emperor, Cold Yingjie, hesitated. Though his harem had dwindled after Prince An’s rebellion, he had no desire to take another consort. Yet refusing outright risked offending their guests.
“Linglong seeks nothing more than to become Your Majesty’s consort,” the princess suddenly spoke up, bowing deeply. “I beseech Your Majesty to grant this humble request.”
The Emperor glanced at his children—Prince Ning, destined for the throne, and the unruly Leng Mingye—neither of whom seemed suitable matches. With a resigned sigh, he nodded.
“Very well. By imperial decree, Princess Linglong shall henceforth be known as Consort Ling.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the Bo Prince interjected eagerly. “Now, regarding my own proposal—I humbly request Princess Wanqing’s hand in marriage.”
His words sent a ripple of tension through the hall, all eyes turning to Wanqing.
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