Uh...
Serena felt a wave of exasperation. She knew it—Prince Nolan, that petty man, would never let the National Preceptor off the hook. Back when the Preceptor declared she was already dead, Nolan must've been furious. Now that he has the chance, of course he won't let the Preceptor go so easily.
"So now, even if the National Preceptor is unwilling, he has no choice but to divine."
"Exactly! Prince Nolan's words were so sharp, so biting. He made it clear—if the National Preceptor doesn't divine, or can't find the answer, then it proves he's a fraud, and the Emperor and the Preceptor are conspiring to deceive and make fools of the people. The Emperor was nearly driven to apoplexy by Prince Nolan's twisted logic. In the end, it was the Preceptor who stepped forward and agreed to divine the Princess Royal's whereabouts, and only then did the matter come to a close." The Crown Princess looked at Serena with a face full of grievance.
Some things, it's better to believe they exist than not. If the National Preceptor had no real ability, the Westlyn royal family would never have valued him. Prince Nolan, for the sake of a woman, was willing to offend a man who can divine fate and read the will of heaven—how could people not envy that?
After making a name for herself in Eastlyn, Serena became famous in Westlyn as well, all thanks to Prince Nolan. Now, she was the object of envy, jealousy, and resentment for countless noblewomen in Westlyn. Many wanted nothing more than to catch a glimpse of Serena, to see what kind of beauty could make the Regent Prince—such a dazzling man—fall so deeply in love.
Serena should count herself lucky—the envoy compound where she stayed was heavily guarded, and ordinary people couldn't get in. Otherwise, the threshold of her residence would have been worn flat by all the visitors.
As if by prior arrangement, the Crown Princess came in the morning, and Prince Derrek arrived in the afternoon with Little Dumpling.
Serena was injured, so Little Dumpling rubbed his face against hers to show affection, then went over to play with Feng Jin. The Snow Wolf lay quietly nearby, keeping its distance—Feng Jin was still shaken by seeing the wolf rip someone apart, so the Snow Wolf didn't dare come too close, afraid of frightening him again.
Prince Derrek saw that his own son was closer to Serena and Feng Jin than to himself, and immediately grew jealous. Grinding his teeth, he said, "Now I finally understand why a woman as weak as you—who can't lift a hand or carry a shoulder—can be so arrogant in Westlyn. Turns out it's because you have the Regent Prince of Eastlyn, a man who spoils women without restraint, as your backer. With him pampering you like this, won't you end up thinking you're above the world and beyond all reason?"
For a woman, running around switching sides and cozying up to whoever's in power—it's the ultimate disgrace for a man. He's even worse than Mr. Yinli. At least Mr. Yinli was forced into it, but Prince Nolan? He does it all of his own accord. It's like he's tossing his pride out the window.
As a fellow man, Prince Derrek just couldn't wrap his head around it—why would Prince Nolan willingly offend others and sacrifice his own interests for Serena? If it were him, he'd never be able to do that.
Serena grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Relax, Your Highness. Prince Nolan isn't like other men—he's not the least bit afraid of spoiling me rotten. He actually wants me to be so wild and impossible that every man except him finds me a headache to deal with."
"Prince Nolan's got a wicked mind. That way, no man would dare go up against him, right?" Prince Derrek rolled his eyes, genuinely appalled by this couple's twisted sense of fun.
"Sharp as always, Prince Derrek. You see right through it." Serena leaned back against her chair, careful not to pull at her wound.
Sure, it was a little informal, but with her injuries, no one expected her to stand on ceremony.
"I wasn't complimenting you two." Serena looked way too pleased with herself, which made Prince Derrek want to knock her down a peg.
"Right back at you—I wasn't praising you either." Serena tapped her fingers on the table, her gaze drifting over Little Dumpling and Feng Jin. Seeing Little Dumpling playing quietly on the small couch, a flash of pity crossed Serena's eyes. Dropping the banter, she said bluntly, "Your Highness, I doubt you came just to check on me. If you have something to say, just say it. For Little Dumpling's sake, I won't make things difficult for you."
There are no real coincidences in this world. She'd been injured for days, and until now, the Crown Princess and Prince Derrek only sent gifts. Today, both showed up unannounced—there's no way they didn't have an agenda.
Serena could pretty much guess the Crown Princess's motives. It was all about the Cui family—testing how much she knew about the Princess Royal, trying to get her to talk, and of course, trying to get closer to her.
As for Prince Derrek?
He was probably here because of the National Preceptor's divination tomorrow.
Tomorrow, the National Preceptor will divine the Princess Royal's whereabouts—a challenge and an opportunity. If she's found by his reading, he'll prove his skill and earn everyone's worship in Westlyn. His fate readings for Prince Derrek and Little Dumpling will be impossible to refute.
One is fated to loneliness and slaughter; the other, marked as someone who should die. With such a verdict, Prince Derrek and Little Dumpling wouldn't be able to survive in Westlyn.
Of course, if the National Preceptor fails, everything flips—the one whose reputation gets trashed will be the National Preceptor himself.
Prince Derrek let out a quiet sigh and explained his reason for coming, just as Serena had guessed.
"I've seen the National Preceptor divine heaven's will before—he's truly skilled. If he dares accept, he must be absolutely confident." In other words, Nolan's move to have the National Preceptor divine the Princess Royal's whereabouts might not undermine him at all—it could make people trust him even more.
"It's a fifty-fifty gamble, Your Highness. Why worry so much?" Serena leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes slightly.
Nolan's trap isn't one the National Preceptor can escape just by being skilled. Serena was sure Nolan had a backup plan.
"This concerns my son's whole future—how could I not be anxious?" After all, Nolan and Serena could just dust themselves off and leave when everything's done, but he and Little Dumpling can't.
"You should trust Prince Nolan—he never fights a battle unless he's sure he'll win." The Princess Royal's rebellion is Nolan's biggest trump card. Even the Emperor of Westlyn probably realized this, which is why he refused to let the National Preceptor divine her whereabouts.
"I wouldn't dare trust him. Prince Nolan might care about your situation, but he'd never spare a thought for mine. Tomorrow, even if he admits the National Preceptor can really divine fate, it wouldn't affect him at all." The National Preceptor's reputation can't touch Eastlyn, and it means nothing to Prince Nolan.
"If you're worried, Your Highness, you could go talk to Prince Nolan. I'm sure he'd give you a satisfactory answer." Serena smiled slyly, like a little fox who'd just gotten her way. Prince Derrek shivered and said in a low voice, "You two saw this coming all along—did you and Prince Nolan set me up together?"
"Set you up? Why would we bother? There's no conflict of interest between us. Like you said, Prince Nolan and I are just passing guests in Westlyn. Whoever sits on the throne here doesn't affect us at all. But you, Your Highness, are different..." Serena's voice was slow and low, with a hint of persuasion.
Prince Derrek stared hard at Serena, his brows furrowed. Logic told him that if he wanted to be loyal to Westlyn, he should take Little Dumpling and leave right now, instead of talking to Serena. But emotionally...
He really was swayed by Serena's words.
He was already under the Emperor's suspicion and leaning toward Titus's side. If the Emperor kept ruling for another ten or twenty years, he and Little Dumpling would be finished. But if Titus became Emperor, at least...
He'd be a founding merit subject!
(Author's note skipped as irrelevant to the novel plot.)