Wang Ziying knew she was lost.
The first time she shared a bed with the Beihan Prince, there was only pain. Her mind had been a cold, sharp thing, consumed with plotting her revenge, her escape, his death.
Yet now, a mere half-month later, lying with him again, she had forgotten the pain entirely. All thoughts of vengeance had dissolved into a dizzying haze of confusion and shameful desire.
Patrolling the north courtyard, Su Wanqing stopped
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