Resentment and the Humble Princess Yara

The Eastlyn officials were frantic, rushing into the palace ahead of schedule. Prince Nathan of Southlyn showed up early too, dragging Su Rou along just to join the spectacle.

With Prince Nathan already there, Princess Yara didn’t dare risk being late. She’d been ready for ages, dressed to dazzle, and the moment she heard Nathan was heading out, she went straight to the palace for the banquet.

Whether it was fate or just bad luck, Princess Yara ran right into Adrian Dongling as she entered. Adrian, who now knew the truth about her miscarriage, had no fondness for Yara, but for the sake of Lyndaria’s royal reputation, he forced a polite smile. "Princess Yara, please..."

“Prince Adrian.” Princess Yara flashed him a brilliant smile, her big eyes brimming with admiration. Too bad Adrian didn’t even look at her. He mechanically led her to her seat, then immediately turned and headed straight for Ninth Royal Uncle.

“Uncle Nolan.” Adrian called out urgently. Instantly, the whole banquet hall fell silent. Every eye flicked between Ninth Royal Uncle and Adrian, the tension thick enough to cut.

Of course, only Prince Adrian was thick-skinned enough not to notice how murderous Uncle Nolan’s mood was—or bold enough to walk right up and talk to him.

Figures like Prince Felix, Prince Nathan, and the Grand Protector all stared at Adrian, itching to see how Nolan would put the clueless Chun Prince in his place.

The ministers didn’t dare do more than sneak glances out of the corners of their eyes, ears straining for every word. The junior officials at the far end stretched their necks, desperate for first-hand gossip.

Nolan ignored the stares, slowly raised his head, and gave Adrian a single icy look. That one glance sent chills down Adrian’s spine and made him want to bolt. Only then did Nolan speak: “What is it?”

He really was a man of few words.

Adrian Dongling sensed something was off, but Nolan was always like this, so he didn’t think much of it. He asked, “Uncle Nolan, is Serena doing okay?”

Adrian had been under house arrest and today was his only chance to leave. Ever since the incident with Yara, he’d been eaten up with regret, desperate to apologize to Serena, but he had no freedom. Seeing Nolan now, he jumped at the chance.

Nolan’s lashes flicked upward as he sized Adrian up, then replied, firmly, “She’s very well.” She really was—well enough to pick a fight with him the day before New Year’s.

“As long as Serena’s fine.” Adrian patted his chest and grinned, totally carefree. “If she’s okay, I’m relieved. I was really worried she’d be mad at me. Uncle Nolan, if you see Serena, could you please tell her I’m sorry? The whole Princess Yara mess was my fault—I didn’t know the truth and let myself get used.”

Speaking of being used, Adrian shot Yara a glare. It nearly made her lose her composure—if not for Nolan’s presence and her own precarious position, she would’ve snapped back at him. Thanks to Adrian’s words, everyone’s attention shifted to Yara, their scrutinizing looks making her almost break down.

Nolan just gave a noncommittal grunt and swept Princess Yara with a look of open contempt.

Nolan was the court’s emotional weather vane. Seeing his attitude, everyone else got bolder. Yara’s smile finally cracked; she forced herself to stay calm, silently chanting that once her brother took the throne and she married Adrian, everything would turn around—no one would dare look down on her then.

But Yara’s endurance depended on others letting her be. Adrian had barely finished when Prince Nathan saw his chance—he wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to embarrass Yara. Still, if he attacked her himself, it’d look cheap, so he shot Su Rou a look, signaling her to step in.

Why did Nathan bring Su Rou to the palace? To make things awkward for Yara—after all, it’s easier for a woman to take down another woman.

Su Rou wasn’t thrilled, but she obediently stepped forward and used the chance to strike up a conversation with Adrian.

Su Rou was sharp—she knew Adrian cared about Serena, so she started by praising Serena, her words full of admiration. Instantly, she won Adrian’s favor. Since the banquet hadn’t started yet, Adrian had no reason to hold back and even had his servants drag his seat right next to Su Rou.

Su Rou was a master at steering conversation. She smoothly shifted from Serena to Yara, inevitably bringing up Yara’s past illness, her tone full of subtle scrutiny.

Everyone knew what Yara’s so-called illness really was, even if outsiders didn’t. The whole court shared secret, knowing smiles at Su Rou’s innocent questions, and their gazes at Yara grew even more disdainful.

Just like Serena always said, if you live in this era, you follow its rules. It doesn’t matter if you’re a nobody like Serena or a princess like Yara—even the Emperor himself can’t just ignore tradition.

Losing your virginity before marriage and getting pregnant in secret—even a royal princess will be despised, dragging her family down with her. The higher your status, the harsher the judgment. As Su Rou spoke, the ministers whispered among themselves, glancing at Yara and shaking their heads, sighing as if to say, 'Who’d have thought Princess Yara would turn out like this?'

With every word, Yara’s face grew stiffer, her whole body trembling. She bit her lip so hard it bled, but felt no pain—her beautiful eyes full of hate for Su Rou.

Su Rou’s smile only grew brighter, her voice softer, as she coaxed out the whole story: how Yara tried to steal Serena’s fiancé, framed Serena for premarital disgrace and failed, then spent a night with Adrian, got pregnant, tried to use the child against Serena, and ended up losing everything—no child, no advantage, no dignity.

Every bit of it was about Yara, but Su Rou was clever enough never to mention her name. Most of the details didn’t come from Su Rou herself, but from Adrian, guided by her questions.

That way, it all sounded more believable, and Adrian’s opinion of Yara sank to rock bottom. After marriage, Yara would have no hope of winning his heart.

While Yara suffered under the weight of everyone’s judgment, Serena was bathing and changing into fresh clothes. She led the Feng servants into the ancestral hall to burn incense and bow before the spirit tablets of her parents.

No fancy silks, no jewels, no family backing—just a simple robe and the quiet authority of a true head of house. Her bearing radiated confidence, worlds apart from the desperate girl she’d once been.

After honoring her parents, Serena returned to the main hall, sat at the master’s seat, received formal New Year bows from her household, and handed out red envelopes—fully embodying the dignity of the clan’s leader.

In Feng Manor, entering the ancestral hall and receiving the household’s collective salute was a privilege usually reserved for men. But here, only Serena enjoyed this honor.

Sitting at the head, watching each servant come up in turn, Serena’s smile grew calmer and more serene, her aura steady and reassuring.

The ritual might be just empty form, but it gave Serena a real sense of New Year and of home. She thought back to waking up alone outside the city—she’d never imagined that a year later she’d be sitting at the head of Feng Manor, receiving her household’s respect, while the princess who framed her was being humiliated in the palace, too cowed to speak…