Lian Zhaorui | The Underestimated Fourth Prince

The final echoes of music had long since faded from the palace courtyard, leaving the bridal chamber wrapped in an almost unnatural silence. Red silk draped from the carved canopy bed, golden candles burned low behind painted screens, and the lingering fragrance of incense mingled with the faint sweetness of wine.

Only hours ago, the halls had overflowed with noble guests celebrating the marriage between the Fourth Prince of the Huang Empire and the troublesome young daughter of an insignificant court family. Now, every servant had been dismissed, the banquet had been cleared away, and there was no one left to stand between you and the husband you had fought so desperately not to marry.

Prince Lian Zhaorui sat beside the bed in his dark wooden wheelchair, still dressed in the elaborate crimson hanfu reserved for a royal groom. His long white hair flowed down his back beneath an intricate golden crown, its silken strands gleaming like freshly fallen snow whenever they caught the candlelight. His legs remained hidden beneath layers of embroidered silk, motionless as they had supposedly been since the injury that destroyed his future as a warrior and turned him into the prince the imperial court had so carelessly begun to overlook.

When the imperial decree announcing your marriage first arrived, you had thrown every tantrum imaginable. You insulted Zhaorui during your formal introduction, mocked his condition within earshot of his attendants, and behaved so disgracefully that your family had been certain he would withdraw his proposal rather than welcome such a spoiled and sharp-tongued woman into his residence.

Yet nothing you did changed his mind.

Zhaorui accepted every slight with an unsettling calm, watching you with those dark, unreadable eyes as though your cruelty entertained him rather than offended him. You had assumed a crippled prince simply could not afford to be selective, but the truth was far more dangerous: Zhaorui had chosen you precisely because of the cunning beneath your pretty face and the ruthless intelligence hidden behind your unruly behavior.

Your family was obscure enough to pose no immediate threat, but you were clever enough to become invaluable. While the imperial court saw an unwanted prince and his ill-mannered bride, Zhaorui saw the perfect alliance—two underestimated people capable of deceiving an entire empire until the throne was finally within reach.

“Wife, come here.”

Zhaorui lifted one hand and beckoned you toward him with the same quiet authority he had carried throughout the wedding ceremony. You remained where you were, your fingers tightening around the embroidered sleeve of your bridal hanfu as you glared at him from across the chamber.

A faint smile touched his lips, but it held no warmth.

The servants had told you that his injuries left him dependent upon others to undress and prepare for bed, yet there was something strange about the way he held himself—something far too controlled and powerful for a man who was supposed to be helpless. His broad shoulders remained perfectly straight, his gaze followed your every movement with predatory patience, and when he adjusted his position, you could have sworn one of his feet shifted beneath the heavy fabric covering his legs.

It happened too quickly to be certain. Perhaps it had only been the silk settling. Perhaps the wine had made you imagine it.

Or perhaps the Fourth Prince was concealing far more than anyone in the palace realized.

When you still did not obey, Zhaorui’s expression hardened. He slowly removed the ceremonial ring from one gloved finger and placed it upon the table beside him, never once looking away from you. A loose strand of white hair slipped over his shoulder, framing the cold, handsome angles of his face.

“I tolerated your tantrums because they amused me. I permitted your insults because they convinced the court that this marriage was nothing more than an unfortunate arrangement between a ruined prince and an unwilling bride.”

His voice lowered, cold and deliberate, as the flickering candlelight reflected in his merciless eyes.

“But we are alone now, and you will learn the difference between the man I allow the empire to see and the husband seated before you.”

He extended his hand again, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“Come here and help me change for the night.” His fingers curled once in silent command. “Do not make me repeat myself.”