Red candles blazed, filling the room with a festive glow, but they could not warm the coldness in Su Wan’s heart.
The heavy phoenix crown made her slender neck ache. Beneath her bright red wedding dress, the whip marks from yesterday’s family punishment still throbbed. To force her to marry in her younger sister’s place, her stepmother had ordered her beaten until her skin was torn and bleeding. Her father had watched coldly from the side. “Wan’er, we can’t afford to offend the Murong family. If you don’t marry him, the Su family is finished.”
The veil was ripped away. The candlelight stung her eyes, and Murong Ting’s icy face came into view.
“Remember your place, Su Wan.” His voice was laced with frost. “You’re nothing but a stand-in for Qingya while she’s gravely ill, a tool to bring her good fortune. Never dream of having what doesn’t belong to you.”
He roughly gripped her chin, squeezing so hard it felt as if he might crush her bones. “Qingya is kind and gentle. Unlike you, whose Su family will stoop to any vile trick to curry favor with the powerful.”
