Quarreling, You Trampled On My Feelings

Outside Caleb Walker's sickroom, the guards were thick as autumn leaves. When Prince Nolan Dongling strode in, not a single person dared breathe wrong—none showed even a hint of defiance. The guards dropped to their knees in unison, voices ringing out: "Greetings to Ninth Royal Uncle! Long life, long life, long, long life!"

The soundproofing in the Small Cabin was honestly terrible, and the guards weren't exactly whispering. There was no way Serena couldn't hear them from inside.

"Really can't wait, huh?" Serena's eyes twinkled with a half-smile, but her hands never stopped moving. With a crisp pop, she knocked off the vial cap, drew out the medicine with the syringe, and tossed the empty bottle aside.

Serena didn't care about whatever drama was brewing outside. She trusted that Nolan knew exactly what she was doing and wouldn't barge in to mess things up. Once she had the medicine ready, she prepped to give Caleb his injection.

The dose was hefty, so Serena chose an intramuscular injection. Caleb's arms were wrapped up tight in bandages—she had no choice but to go for the hip.

The hip's got plenty of muscle, barely any nerves, and tons of blood vessels—perfect for absorption. Serena waved over Nolan's dark-guard maids to help lower Caleb's trousers.

The maids had been nervous, especially with Nolan around, but seeing Serena so calm and in control, they relaxed and stepped forward to undo Caleb's pants.

From the way the two maids handled things, it was clear this wasn't their first rodeo. Besides, Serena hadn't asked them to strip Caleb completely—just enough to expose the injection site.

Serena grabbed a cotton swab and disinfected Caleb's hip, prepping for the shot. Just as she was about to inject, a loud bang shattered the calm—she jerked her head up, heart pounding, and locked eyes with Nolan's furious glare.

"Serena, what the hell are you doing?" Nolan burst in to find her with her hand on Caleb Walker's bare hip. Add in the fact he'd just been blocked outside, and Nolan's anger was practically boiling over.

"Me?" Serena's heart skipped a beat. If she weren't so well-trained, her hands might've slipped and left the needle stuck in Caleb's hip for good.

"I'm giving Caleb his shot." Catching herself zoning out, Serena quickly refocused, shooting Nolan an apologetic look that said, 'We'll talk later.'

Serena bowed her head and slowly pushed the medicine into Caleb's body, careful not to mess up. She kept her eyes glued to the syringe, but to Nolan, it looked like she was just staring at another man's bare hip.

Nolan couldn't believe what he was seeing. Serena, right in front of him, undressing another man and touching his hip—he couldn't handle it.

His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. Nolan told himself to stay cool, not to rush in—if he interrupted Serena's work, she'd flip out for sure. Still...

That injection, short as it was, felt longer than morning court. Nolan just watched, eyes locked on Serena as she finished, pulled out the needle, pressed the spot with a cotton swab, then told the maids, "Get Caleb dressed."

Nolan had never realized he could hold it together this well—at least not until the maids finished dressing Caleb. Only then did he finally say, "Out."

His voice was so cold and heavy it made the air thick. The maids didn't dare say a word; they just scurried out as fast as they could.

Serena frowned, glanced sideways at Nolan, but kept silent. She tidied up her syringes and empty vials, and only when everything was put away did she walk up to him. "Let's talk outside."

Nolan was pissed, and anyone with half a brain could tell. Serena didn't know exactly why, but she knew this wasn't the place for a conversation.

"Hmph..." Nolan shot Serena a cold, arrogant look, then turned and strode out.

That look—so proud, so dismissive, as if nothing and no one mattered to him. It was just like the first time he'd seen Serena at her lowest. One glance, and it chilled her to the bone. Serena stared dumbly at Nolan's retreating back, frozen in place.

What just happened?

"Come on." Nolan paused when Serena didn't follow, turned to call her, but didn't bother waiting—he kept walking.

"Miss Serena..." Butler Wu was so rattled by the tension between Nolan and Serena that he barely dared speak, but he was worried for her and couldn't help looking anxious.

Serena forced a smile. "I'm fine."

She took a deep breath, pushed down the chill in her heart, and hurried after Nolan. Running through everything that had happened lately in her mind, Serena couldn't think of anything she'd done wrong—except maybe shredding the Ninth Prince’s Princess Consort formal regalia.

Would Nolan really blow up this much over a dress?

It's just a dress, even if it marks the Princess Consort. If the palace wants, they can always make another. If he's not mad about that, then what is it?

Serena wracked her brain but couldn't think of anything else she'd done to piss Nolan off.

Nolan waved everyone away from the study—even his dark-guards had to keep their distance. When Serena walked in, she found him sitting at his desk, radiating cold fury.

"Close the door." Nolan's voice was ice. Serena felt a pang of guilt—she hated being ordered around, but this time she obeyed, slamming the door shut and leaning against it, too wary to step closer.

"Nini, are you okay?" Serena asked, sticking close to the door, clearly on guard.

"I'm fine. You're the one with a problem." Nolan's eyes were bottomless, not a trace of warmth in his stare.

This time, Nolan was truly furious. Just thinking about what he'd seen in the Small Cabin made him want to kill someone. If he hadn't kept his cool, Caleb Walker would be a corpse by now.

Serena pointed at herself, baffled. "Me? What did I do?"

Could the Emperor have found out she shredded the Ninth Prince’s Princess Consort formal regalia and pinned it on Adrian? No way—there was no evidence.

"Do you really need me to spell it out for you?" Nolan sneered.

Serena frowned. "I honestly don't get it, Nini. Please, just tell me straight."

"Stubborn as ever. Fine, I'll remind you—the Ninth Prince’s Princess Consort formal regalia." Nolan would never admit the real reason was seeing Serena touch Caleb's hip.

He could overlook Serena sharing a tent with Caleb Jinling out in the wild—he hadn't seen it himself, after all.

Out of sight, out of mind. Camping together was a matter of necessity, and they'd have been bundled up, not showing any skin. But what he'd just witnessed—Serena touching another man's bare hip—he couldn't stomach that.

So it really was about the dress. Serena quietly breathed a sigh of relief. "Nini, you gave me the Ninth Prince’s Princess Consort formal regalia. Once it's mine, I get to decide what to do with it. I admit, shredding it was a bit much, but at the time, I didn't have any better option."

Serena didn't bother denying it—Nolan's question meant he already knew the truth. If she tried to lie now, he'd probably explode.