Morgan Shangguan curled her lips into a subtle smile and spoke calmly, "If we say nothing, Prince Ethan certainly won’t say anything either. Who could possibly know?" After all, this was hardly a matter to be proud of. Prince Ethan’s ultimate goal was the throne, and how could an emperor allow such a shameful thing to be known by outsiders?
As for whether Prince Ethan would make trouble for the Cloud Guild, such matters were naturally left to the Five Elders to handle. She didn’t need to worry about it—they wouldn’t be incapable of managing something so trivial!
Besides, at this moment, Prince Ethan would hardly want to offend the Cloud Guild!
The ghost’s face brimmed with admiration; truly, the master was... clever!
After the drugging incident, Yi Qing’er had quieted down, obediently staying in the courtyard. Damien Gray had forgotten all about it, his mind set solely on the upcoming ritual.
Since discussing the cooperation, Morgan Shangguan hadn’t seen Prince Ethan again. Her secluded courtyard was off-limits to others—even the consorts and concubines of Prince Julian’s Manor, though full of speculation, dared not investigate. So she enjoyed her peace and quiet.
She had once enjoyed such tranquil days, but now she felt restless. With no one to bother her, she found the quiet unsettling, sighing softly—did she have a masochistic streak?
"What troubles you, my princess?" Damien Gray’s deep, amused voice seemed to sound right beside her ear.
Morgan was startled, then smiled and teased, "Damien, aren’t you breaking the rules of the game?" She couldn’t help but find their secret meeting amusing—did this count as a tryst?
Damien Gray raised an eyebrow, leaned over, and pressed her onto the soft couch, his lips covering hers. Morgan’s eyes remained half-closed and smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss.
Feeling Damien Gray’s hand slip under her collar, Morgan raised an eyebrow at him. Sensing her reaction, Damien withdrew his hand—he wasn’t truly intending to go further; now was not the time, nor the place.
Damien pressed his forehead to hers, his lips close to hers as he whispered, "Morgan, I miss you."
Morgan, slightly breathless, wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed softly, "You should be thinking about how to save your sacrificial offering tomorrow, Your Highness!"
Damien Gray sighed, helpless. "It seems my princess really wants to see me dead!"
Morgan raised an eyebrow and smiled, "You’re so clever, Your Highness!" She seemed unconcerned about their intimacy and rewarded him with a kiss.
Damien laughed softly, "You’re heartless, my princess!" He silenced her with another kiss, gently biting her lip in playful punishment.
His kiss was possessive and dominant, yet beneath it lay a tenderness that only careful attention could discern.
Although the day for worship at the Royal Temple was not far off, setting up an altar now seemed unnecessary. But with the Emperor unwell, it had become expected—no one could object.
Prince Ethan’s plan was kept from Emperor Alexander, who favored him as heir but had his own considerations. Perhaps he didn’t truly want to eliminate Damien Gray; Damien’s presence kept Prince Ethan in check. If Damien were gone, Crown Prince Adrian would be no match for Prince Ethan. It’s impossible for Emperor Alexander to feel no guilt—if not for Damien, then at least for Sima Wan’er.
For whatever reason, if Prince Ethan reported to Emperor Alexander and the emperor objected, his plan would be terminated. So Prince Ethan didn’t want to take that risk.
Although there were many people present that day, the atmosphere was quiet and solemn—everyone was there to pray for blessings.
No court ministers, no imperial consorts attended—not even Lady Sapphire, who had originally suggested the prayer. Prince Ethan had argued that a grand ceremony would seem wasteful and distract from the Royal Ceremony. So the altar was set up at Prince Julian’s Manor, attended only by its residents, but with heavy security.
On the altar, the abbot from Serenity Temple chanted scriptures. All the servants of Prince Julian’s Manor stood below, with seats arranged for the consorts and concubines, who sat quietly and properly.
At the very front, a man and a woman sat side by side—the man refined and gentle, the woman serene and light as a cloud. They looked the perfect pair, but they were not Prince Julian and Lady Julia. Instead, it was Prince Julian and the Ghost King's Consort.
Lady Julia sat among the other consorts in the back row, her brows furrowed and eyes resentful. But this was Prince Ethan’s arrangement, and she dared not defy him.
The other women had mixed feelings about the Ghost King's Consort—some envied her, since Morgan Shangguan was the only Princess Consort personally granted her title by the Emperor; others despised her, seeing the title 'Ghost King's Consort' as an insult; and some were simply curious.
Everyone waited for the abbot to finish his chanting so they could offer incense and pray, but suddenly, something unexpected happened.
Because everyone from the manor was gathered in this courtyard, Damien Gray entered as if it were unguarded—perhaps just as Prince Ethan had intended.
Damien Gray was stopped by guards at the gate, but he ignored them and had Maxwell Jing and Ethan Gu take action, quickly knocking the guards aside.
There were many guards inside, but only two at the gate. After the disturbance, the courtyard guards didn’t rush out to help—clearly intentional.
Damien Gray didn’t bring a large group to 'rescue' anyone—only Maxwell Jing and Ethan Gu accompanied him.
Prince Ethan saw him enter, his eyes flickering with an unreadable smile as he glanced at Morgan Shangguan. He had agreed to cooperate with her to eliminate Damien Gray only because he wanted to do so anyway—her proposal gave him a chance to gain her loyalty. He never believed Damien would actually come; in his mind, a prince obsessed with a woman must be up to something. He’d even made other plans to lure Damien in, but now, it seemed those were unnecessary.