Chapter 13 — Wedding Day Switch: My Husband Traded Me Away

I bowed deeply and offered a formal salute.

“Thank you, Your Highness, for placing your trust in me.”

“Rise.”

He commanded. Just as I attempted to straighten my posture, a sharp, piercing pain flared up from my knees, causing me to stifle a soft gasp and sway unsteadily. Having knelt for far too long, my legs had grown utterly numb and stiff. Suddenly, a steady hand reached out to grasp my arm. It was his. Without my even noticing, he had drawn close to my side.

“You are injured?”

He asked, his deep voice carrying a faint trace of unexpected concern.

“It is nothing, merely a trivial scratch.”

I bit my lip against the throbbing ache, forcing myself to stand upright. Yet, before I could fully steady myself, he lowered his frame. While I stood there in stunned silence, his hand gently lifted the heavy hem of my skirt. My knees were swollen and bruised a violent red, the delicate skin torn in several places where fresh beads of blood slowly began to seep through. His dark brows knitted tightly together in an instant.

“Foolish creature.”

He murmured under his breath, though whether the reprimand was meant for me or for his own negligence remained unclear. He offered no further words, instead wheeling himself swiftly toward a concealed compartment beside the heavy desk. From within, he retrieved a small, pristine white jade porcelain bottle—the exact twin of the one from our previous encounter. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the vessel directly into my hands.

“Apply it three times a day. See that you do not let it scar.”

His tone retained its customary, imperious command, yet beneath the stern surface, a quiet warmth bloomed within the depths of my chest.

“Understood.”

I cradled the porcelain bottle carefully in my palms.

“And another thing.”

His gaze drifted toward the bowl of lotus seed soup resting untouched upon the table.

“This Prince detests sweets.”

“It was this concubine’s oversight.”

I hurriedly acknowledged my fault.

“See that you replace it with meat next time.”

With a subtle sweep of his hand, he signaled my dismissal. I offered a final curtsy, carefully lifting the cold, untouched bowl of soup, and backed quietly out of the study. The heavy door clicked shut behind me, sealing off the room, but just before the latch caught, I heard his low, resonant voice command from within.

“Shadow guard.”

“At your service.”

A spectral voice, akin to a whispering demon, materialized from the shadows to answer.

“Investigate the origin of those rumors.”

“Once found, there is no need to report back.”

“Bring the culprit directly before the Princess consort.”

11

The efficiency with which Phung Uyen operated was nothing short of astonishing. By the early hours of the following morning, while I was still partaking in my morning repast, the shadow guard had already returned. A figure clad entirely in black, possessing the eerie mobility of a phantom, knelt gracefully upon one knee before me.

“Princess consort, the investigation is complete.”

“Speak.”

I laid my chopsticks aside and delicately dabbed at the corners of my mouth with a silk handkerchief.

“The rumors originated from a humble teahouse in the western quarter of the city.”

“The perpetrators who spread the gossip were merely a band of petty ruffians and scoundrels.”

“My subordinates subjected them to interrogation, and they confessed to acting under orders.”

“The one who instigated them is a procurement steward employed within the kitchens of the Shen household.”

“And that very steward happens to be a distant maternal cousin to one of the personal maids serving the Second Young Miss, Shen Nhu.”

The web of evidence was clear and unbroken. Every single thread pointed unequivocally toward Shen Nhu. The realization brought me no surprise whatsoever; apart from her, there was simply no other person petty enough to resort to such a clumsy and malicious tactic to undermine me.

“Where are they now?”

I inquired calmly.

“By the Prince’s command, they have all been apprehended and brought here. They are currently detained outside the courtyard.”

“Very good.”

I rose slowly to my feet.

“Send Mother Truong in.”

Moments later, Mother Truong hurried into the chamber. Following the events of the previous day, not a single trace of her former contempt remained, replaced entirely by a profound and cautious reverence.

“Princess consort, what are your instructions?”

“Have a carriage prepared.”

I spoke in a tranquil tone.

“We are returning to the Shen residence for a visit.”

Mother Truong was momentarily startled, but she recovered her composure with commendable speed.

“Understood, this servant shall attend to it immediately.”

“Wait.”

I called out, halting her departure.

“Bring along the entire retinue of guards that the Prince assigned to me yesterday.”

“The larger the procession, the better.”

“This servant understands!”

A gleam of fierce excitement flashed within Mother Truong’s eyes. She knew full well that this visit signified the Princess consort’s intention to settle accounts once and for all. The lavish convoy of the Prince Regent’s estate once again rolled majestically toward the Shen manor, far more extravagant and imposing than the bridal procession from three days prior. Eight magnificent steeds pulled the ornate carriage, flanked fore and aft by over a hundred elite guards clad in black armor and wielding formidable broadswords. Every single man wore an expression of chilling solemnity, radiating an oppressive, murderous aura. Wherever the procession passed, the common folk hurriedly scrambled to clear the streets, not daring to utter so much as a whisper. The entire capital was acutely aware that the Prince Regent’s wife was returning to her maiden home—and this time, it was unmistakably a journey of retribution. Inside the swaying carriage, I closed my eyes to rest my mind. Mother Truong sat opposite me, her lips parting as if she wished to speak, though hesitation held her back.

“Does Mother have something on her mind?”

I opened my eyes.

“Princess consort…”