At the Chang'an Suitor Selection Banquet, a dozen or so least-favored sons of noble houses stood with their heads bowed, waiting to be chosen. Only Xiao Heng, the Thirteenth Prince, looked carefree. After all, everyone knew I had loved him for ten whole years. As the only daughter of a prince of a different surname, I held in my hand the sachet that would decide whether this least-favored prince could stay or would have to be sent to the Xiongnu as a hostage. Yet even though I had prepared his dowry and our bridal home, he ignored my pleading eyes and, in front of everyone, tied the sachet around the wrist of that trembling bastard daughter.
Watching his shoulders relax, I smiled without a sound. Fine, then.
At the hour of the tiger half a month later, I personally escorted his carriage out through the pass on its way to become a hostage.
