The Third Prince? Why is he here?
Panic flashed in Su Wan's eyes. She scrambled, fixing her clothes in a rush—had to look perfect. As if nothing had happened, she put on a dignified, poised smile and glided forward with practiced grace. "Your Highness." She bowed to Prince Damien of Southlyn.
"No need for formalities." Prince Damien concealed the mockery in his eyes, his slender, fox-like eyes slightly raised. Ignoring the shards at his feet, he sat down in the seat of honor.
From the moment Prince Damien walked in, Su Wan's smile didn't falter for a second. No embarrassment. She acted like the mess meant nothing. Calmly, she signaled her maid to clean up.
"Sorry for the scene, Your Highness." Su Wan owned up without a hint of shame.
"No worries. Honestly, I've never seen Su Wan lose her cool—today's a real eye-opener. That Serena Feng is just infuriating, even making a noble lady like Su Wan snap." Prince Damien's smile twisted into something wicked, his pale face and fox-like eyes radiating arrogance and disdain.
Praise? More like a slap in the face. Su Wan burned with anger. But she kept her mask on. Her smile never wavered.
"Your Highness, you’re really trying to embarrass me! I just lost control for a second and smashed the tea set." Su Wan's cheeks flushed at just the right moment, her shy look so convincing—no one would doubt it was a slip.
If Serena Feng were here, she'd call it: Masterclass acting! These people could blush on command. From a medical angle, just bow your head and hold your breath for thirty seconds—your face turns red. Serena never bothered with tricks like that, and never cared to.
Prince Damien still needed her, so he let it slide. Just a few teasing words, then he dropped it. Su Wan hated his tone, but all she could do was smile back.
No one knew better than Su Wan just how savage and reckless Prince Damien could be.
Prince Damien had taken heavy losses from Serena Feng and Ninth Royal Uncle. He couldn't vent his anger on them. These days, anyone who dared defy him ended up ruined.
Recently, a string of young women had died in Prince Damien's residence—tortured to death by his own hands. Some were dragged out, still bleeding. The sight was pure horror.
Su Wan knew the score. He wouldn't dare treat her that way. But if she ever made him mad, her status as Su Clan's daughter wouldn't save her. She'd suffer. No doubt.
Su Wan had no intention of sticking her neck out. Seeing Prince Damien calm, she switched to business: "Your Highness, if you wanted to see me, a word to the maid would do. I'd have come running—no need for you to come yourself."
Of all times, he caught her at her worst—smashing things like a commoner. Su Wan fumed. Ever since coming to Eastlyn, her self-control had slipped. If this kept up, people would say Su Clan daughters had no manners.
Blame Serena Feng. If not for her, Su Wan wouldn't keep losing her cool. Anger flashed in her eyes. Murderous intent followed, dark and swift.
Prince Damien smirked—so this was a noble lady? Just a venomous snake behind a mask. He had zero interest in Su Wan's drama, and wasn't about to blow her cover.
"Su Wan's facing off against Serena Feng tomorrow—of course I'm interested. The Su Clan and Southlyn are tied together." His message was crystal clear: Su Wan had to win. Losing was not an option.
This whole contest was the Su Clan's idea. If Su Wan lost, it'd be a disaster—she'd drag Prince Damien down with her.
"Don't worry, Your Highness. My skills aren’t perfect, but beating Serena Feng? I’m confident. Our spies say she's clueless about zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting. I can take those four, easy." Su Wan had studied the arts for years—she could do them blindfolded.
Su Wan believed there were only a handful of women in the world who could match her in the four arts.
Prince Damien nodded, satisfied. "I know how sharp you are, Su Wan. If you can crush Serena Feng in the four arts, what about etiquette, riding, medicine, and martial arts?"
Prince Damien was digging for details. Su Wan caught on fast—she knew exactly what he wanted.
A gambling board!
Prince Damien had planned to use her duel with Serena Feng to set up a gambling board with Eastlyn officials, but Serena and Vincent Su had ruined that. Now, asking about the contest again, he was clearly out to place new bets.
Su Wan knew how much this gambling board mattered to Prince Damien. He was desperate for cash—if she blew it...
A chill ran through Su Wan. She couldn't even imagine what Prince Damien would do if she messed up. She sat up straighter, face serious. After a moment, she replied, "Your Highness, my etiquette rivals any noble lady. I can beat Serena Feng there. But riding, medicine, and martial arts? I can't match her."
Eight rounds. She could take five. That was the plan. Su Wan didn't need to say more. Her resolve was set.
"Riding, medicine, and martial arts?" Prince Damien's eyes glinted, unreadable. His lips curled, showing sharp white teeth. "What if I told you I could make sure you beat Serena Feng in all three?"
"Your Highness?" Su Wan snapped her head up, met his gaze—then quickly looked away. She drew a breath, voice steady: "What do you mean, Your Highness?"
Those three rounds were the emperor's idea. The Su Clan got it—the Eastlyn emperor didn’t want Serena Feng to lose too badly. Out of respect, they agreed.
The Su Clan didn’t sweat the details. Noble ladies were supposed to master zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, etiquette, riding. Serena Feng was good at riding, but Su Wan wasn’t bad either. Medicine and martial arts? The Su Clan scoffed—those weren’t skills for a proper daughter.
"You heard me. I can make sure you beat Serena Feng in medicine and martial arts, and tie in riding. Listen up, Su Wan—I want you to win seven rounds." Prince Damien stood tall, commanding from above.
Normally, Su Wan would’ve bristled. But today, not a trace of annoyance. She jumped up, bowed respectfully, and promised, "You can count on me, Your Highness. I won’t let you down."
Seven wins. Including crushing Serena Feng in medicine—her pride, her specialty. Su Wan's heart raced. The thrill of victory was almost too much.
She would stomp Serena Feng into the ground. Ninth Royal Uncle would see: the woman he favored was nothing. Su Wan deserved any man under heaven. No—those men weren’t worthy of her. Not even Ninth Royal Uncle...
"I know you’re smart, Su Wan. Enough talk—get ready. I’m leaving." Prince Damien hid the mockery in his eyes and strode out, head held high, pride radiating from every step.
Eastlyn’s top gambling board. Hmph—Prince Damien would make sure he was the biggest winner. No one else stood a chance.