Headache.
It was like a red-hot iron rod was stirring in my mind, making my stomach churn. My eyelids were too heavy to lift, but the touch of my body woke me up first - silk, fine brocade silk, as slippery as water against my skin.
Something is wrong.
The side hall of the cold palace where I lived only had coarse linen quilts, the kind that abraded my skin. My mother and I have never used a few pieces of this Jiangnan tribute Yunjin silk.
He opened his eyes suddenly.
There is a bright yellow curtain above the head, with a five-clawed dragon embroidered with gold thread, and the dragon's eyes are inlaid with thumb-sized pearls, which glow coldly under the candlelight. The bed was large enough to sleep four people. The carved bedposts were wrapped with gold leaf, and every cut was engraved with royal regulations.
The blood all over my body froze instantly.
This is the bedroom of the enemy prince.
Memories poured in like a tide, no, it was the memory of the original owner. Three days ago, the Chu Kingdom was defeated, and the walls of the city were covered with the Murong family's black dragon flags. My father burned himself in the Taiji Hall, my mother hung herself from a beam, and my eight-year-old brother was thrown to death by the enemy on the steps in front of the Jinluan Hall.
Blood flowed all over the floor and down the steps, like red snakes.
I subconsciously looked down at myself - I was wearing a translucent gauze dress, so thin that I could see the lotus-colored bellyband inside. The belt was half loose, exposing a large piece of collarbone. I knelt down beside the bed, my hair disheveled, and my face stained with tears.
There was a voice outside the bedroom.
