The next morning bloomed soft and silent. Sunlight filtered lazily through the sheer curtains of Lan's room, painting faint gold lines on the cold marble floor. But the warmth outside never quite reached inside her chest.
Lan sat on the edge of the bed in silence, staring at her bare feet against the stone. Mina had brought her a new hanfu, one chosen carefully this time, but it still didn't ease the heaviness inside her.
Three years.Just three years, she had told herself. That was the contract. At eighteen, she would leave. She had even signed it with quiet relief that she wouldn't be stuck here forever.
But suddenly, three years felt too long.Too long in a house where the walls listened and judged. Too long with people who saw her as a stain on the floor. Too long near him—the prince who couldn't decide whether to ignore her or humiliate her.
She scoffed under her breath, pulling the sash around her waist tighter.
"混蛋," she muttered, voice low, venom threading the word. Bastard.
Mina, fixing the pillows behind her, raised her head. "You said something, my lady?"
Lan smiled sweetly. "Nothing."
She walked to the window and pushed it open. The garden below was being trimmed by some lower maids. She watched them for a moment, her brows furrowed.
What would she do after three years? Where would she go? She had no homeland anymore. No family. No allies. Just a name—Lan—and a face no one trusted.
I can't end up poor. Or dependent. Not again.The thought settled like a knife at the base of her throat.
As the breeze played with her hair, her eyes caught sight of one of the merchant women who regularly delivered fabrics to the estate. The woman laughed heartily, sleeves rolled up, gold glinting from her wrist, her skin tanned by the sun but her hands lined with the stories of trade.
And suddenly—an idea sparked in Lan's mind.
A business.
She had grown up around silks, embroidery, herbs, teas. Her mother had known beauty and trade. Her father, before the war, had spoken of routes and buyers.
I can start something of my own.
Something modest, something to build in secret while still trapped here. Something to ensure she didn't walk out of this place three years later with only bitterness clinging to her name.
"Business," she whispered, almost to herself. "Yes. I'll build something before I leave."
"Build what, my lady?" Mina asked cautiously.
Lan turned toward her, eyes gleaming—not with hope, but the fragile beginnings of defiance. "A way out."
Before Mina could ask further, a loud knock echoed on the door.Lan and Mina turned sharply.
"My lady," a voice called from behind the door, low and unreadable. "You're being summoned."
"Summoned?" Lan echoed. "By who?"
A long pause followed. Then the voice replied—
"By His Highness. He says it's… urgent."