Chapter 3
Chapter 3
That Winter Banquet at the Royal Palace felt like a massive funeral.
The lights were blindingly bright, and the music was so light it felt hollow. All the girls wore their finest dresses, yet their faces bore a tension that bordered on greed. They were waiting-waiting for the Queen to place those legendary Glass Slippers upon the high dais, waiting for the shoes to choose someone who would become the Princess Consort.
I stood at the very back of the crowd. My hem was stained with uncleaned dust, making me look like a piece of dirty cloth that had wandered in by mistake.
Li Xinglan sat high upon the throne, her smile dignified and gentle. She looked to be only in her early thirties, with skin as white as porcelain and raven hair cascading down to her waist. Yet, for some reason, I felt her eyes were too bright-like mirrors, shining with a light that lacked any trace of humanity.
Su Zhichuan sat just below her.
That was the first time I saw him.
Rumors outside said the Crown Prince was like a blade tempered in frost; that he had caused his mother’s death and was born under a cursed star. But that night, he merely leaned back against his chair with a lazy air. His face was a sickly pale, and the thin veins on his knuckles were almost visible, like someone who hadn’t seen the sun in a long time. He didn’t look at anyone, staring instead at the Ancient Mirror shrouded in black silk deep within the hall, his gaze chillingly cold.
When the palace attendants brought the shoes forward, the entire hall fell silent.
The soles were as thin as ice. Even from a distance, I could clearly see that layer of grayish-white powder inside the heels-exactly the same as what I had seen in the wedding chamber.
The Queen said softly, “Whomever the shoes remember shall be the future Princess Consort.”
The girls stepped forward one after another, vying for a chance to try them on. Some had arches too wide, others had heels too thick; some forced their feet in, only to emerge bleeding, yet they still smiled and claimed it didn’t hurt.
When it was Cen Wenxi’s turn, she practically lunged for them.
The shoe caught at her toes; it wouldn’t go in. Her expression turned hideous, and she suddenly turned to glare at me as if she wanted to swallow me whole.
Right then, a brief commotion broke out at the other end of the hall.
Someone knocked over a wine goblet. The lights flickered, and the music missed a beat.
I instinctively stepped back, but someone stepped on my hem. I lost my balance and tumbled forward, falling right before the high dais.
The Glass Slippers slipped from the attendant’s hands.
As if guided by something invisible, they landed right beside my feet, the tips lightly brushing against my ankles.
The entire room went deathly silent.
Li Xinglan smiled.
“Look up,” she said to me.
As soon as I raised my eyes, I collided with Su Zhichuan’s gaze.
He had stood up at some point, the laziness in his eyes completely vanished, replaced by shock, anger, and an irrepressible panic. He walked down from the dais step by step and, under the watchful eyes of everyone present, leaned over to personally fit the shoes onto my feet.
The shoes felt like living things, molding to me with seamless precision.
I nearly screamed from the pain. But in the next moment, Su Zhichuan took my hand.
His palm was as cold as snow, but his fingertip quickly traced a single word onto my wrist.
Run.