The Prince Consort's Secret (GL) - Chapter 10

As I stepped in front of this person, I realized he was about a centimeter taller than me. That felt oddly familiar—one of my roommates in my past life had the exact same height difference, yet that tiny centimeter always made me feel like I was looking up at her. A bit annoyed, I began to doubt myself again.

But while this person seemed to be around 170 centimeters—tall for a woman—it wasn’t exactly rare. I’m 170 myself, and I’m definitely a woman. That height doesn’t make someone male. In fact, 170 is the kind of height that works both ways: dominant or delicate. I couldn’t let doubt win before I confirmed anything!

After adjusting my mood, I glanced at the “consort” again and noticed a subtle look of relief flash across that exquisite face. What, was my frustration amusing to you? Wait… perhaps the consort had heard about my resistance to this marriage. If this person thought I was unwilling, then the relief probably meant he believed there’d be no consummation. Which would only make sense—if the consort were a woman!

Reigniting my determination, I smiled. The consort smiled back slightly and said gently, “Princess, shall we…?” That voice—soft, neither clearly male nor female.

I didn’t respond directly. Instead, I patted the consort on the shoulder with a grin. “What slender shoulders.”

They blinked, a hint of surprise. I added teasingly, “With looks like yours, has no one ever been suspicious?”

The consort chuckled again—an expression so enchanting it nearly dazed me—then bowed gracefully. “Princess, some men simply have delicate features. General Han of the previous dynasty also had such looks, yet he led troops into battle and made his name on the battlefield.”

Fair point. I hoped that was just stubborn talk.

I gave a light laugh, patted their shoulder again, and quipped, “Well said. Still, I’ll be finding out the truth soon enough.”

As I spoke, I watched closely. Sure enough, despite his composed appearance, a flicker of panic flashed through those calm eyes.

Got you. I practically grinned with triumph.

Without warning, I shot out a fist toward the chest. I was just about to laugh in glee—until my smile froze.

Hard. Very hard. No softness.

I… I must’ve made a mistake!

Still unconvinced, I punched again. This time, the consort was ready and smoothly sidestepped. “Princess,” they said with a chuckle, “I told you already, but you refuse to believe. If I were a woman, how could I have a male household registry and pass all the national civil service exams?”

…That made a lot of sense.

Maybe I really was being too naïve.

My heart sank with frustration. What a letdown—and now I was the fool.

As I wallowed in my crushed expectations, the consort’s gentle voice interrupted, laced with amusement:

“Princess, it’s getting late. May we retire for the night?”

Snapping back to reality, I glared at the ridiculously attractive person in front of me.

“Don’t come near me!” I barked, turning and storming toward the bed.

I heard his footsteps following behind and immediately spun around, jabbing a finger at him.

“I said don’t come over here!”

He stopped, his face a mix of innocent confusion and reluctant amusement. That devilish charm made me want to punch him again. I glanced around, then spotted something useful—a box of Go stones.

Grabbing it, I smirked. “I hear you’re a scholar and a warrior. Let’s put that to the test. This set of jade stones was a gift from the Emperor himself—if you break even one, I won’t let it go lightly!”

Was that true? No clue. But saying it added pressure.

He merely raised an eyebrow and smiled confidently. “Go ahead, Princess.”

With that, he took off his heavy hat and removed the huge red ribbon from his chest.

Oh? Feeling cocky now?

I grabbed a handful of stones and flung them in a messy scatter. To my surprise, he moved like the wind—catching every single one. When his hands were full, he darted over to place them neatly on a table before returning.

I stared at my now-empty box. Irritated again.

But I wasn’t giving up that easily.

Scanning the room, I found nothing else suitable, so I went to the study and returned with an armful of scrolls.

“These are all written by the Emperor himself,” I lied sweetly. “Catch them all—no placing them down.”

Before he could respond, I tossed one. He caught it. Good.

Then another. And another.

By the time I was empty-handed, I stood proudly watching the consort struggle to balance a teetering tower of imperial calligraphy.

Scrolls clamped under both arms, a stack in his hands, one balanced precariously on their head—they looked like a walking bookshelf.

I chuckled gleefully.

“Impressive, Consort! Who knew you had such potential as a human shelf? Next time I want to read or paint, I’ll just have you stand beside me.”

He gave a pained smile. “As you wish, Princess. But, uh… when can I set these down?”

Still grinning, I lit an incense stick. “When this burns out.”

That would take half an hour—a full modern hour.

Even during military drills, most people only held position for thirty minutes.

But for someone trained in martial arts like them? This should be easy.

I eyed him as I changed out of my outer robe and crown, then grabbed a book and curled up on the bed.

Occasionally, I peeked over.

He stood straight and still—like a statue.

Only when the incense had burned down three-quarters did signs of strain start to show.

Balancing military posture and scrolls?

No wonder they were struggling now.

I grew even more determined to have him teach me martial arts. This kind of physical ability was something I needed.

When the incense finally burned out, I noticed the consort still hadn’t moved.

I waited a moment, then asked, “What’s wrong? Haven’t stood long enough?”

He gave a weak laugh. “Princess… if I move now, I’m afraid everything will fall.”

Poor thing.

Serves you right for not being a woman.

Still, I walked over and helped remove the scrolls—first those on the head and under the arms, then the ones in his hands.

He wobbled, nearly collapsing. I caught him instinctively.

So soft… like a woman.

Wait—that sounded familiar.

I suddenly remembered: that’s what Wu Xie said about Little Brother in The Lost Tomb.

And Little Brother was definitely a man—an unbelievably strong one.

Feeling slightly guilty for the comparison, I sat the consort on a stool instead of the bed.

“I’ve never supported anyone but the Emperor and Empress,” I said smugly. “You should be honored. Oh, and don’t even think about sleeping on the bed tonight. The inner and outer chambers have plenty of space—pick anywhere but the bed.”

I said it sweetly, but there was a flash of hurt in his eyes.

At that moment, I finally understood what the Crown Prince meant when he said even he would fall for this person despite preferring women.

I took a deep breath and called out, “Yinger.”

The curtain rustled. Yinger entered, paused when she saw the two of us, then asked,

“What are your orders, Princess?”

I walked over to her and said with a smile, “No need to fetch water or serve tonight. Just have a good rest.”

She hesitated. “But…”

“It’s nothing serious,” I said calmly. “Let’s not turn it into something that is.”

“…Yes, Princess.”

They said the previous princess never punished servants—too softhearted.

No wonder I couldn’t intimidate anyone.

Hopefully Yinger understood that sometimes, less was more.

After sending her away, I returned to the bed and sat down, telling the consort I expected him to teach me martial arts.

He agreed readily.

I began undressing, my movements clumsy but somewhat familiar after watching maids do it for so long.

The consort bowed and said with a gentle smile,

“Princess, I’ll go sleep outside.”

Outside? In this cold? No way.

“Just sleep at the inner chamber’s table,” I said.

So I still had a conscience. Good for me.

“No need, Princess,” they replied. “I have inner strength—I can resist the cold.”

Inner strength?

That mystical skill lost to time, only seen in novels?

The heavens were far too kind to me.

I asked for a demonstration.

He stood two meters from a candle, pointed, and the flame flickered—then went out.

I clapped enthusiastically.

“How long would it take for me to reach your level?”

He smiled faintly.

“I started at age three. It’s been seventeen years. With talent, the Princess might take… fifteen.”

Fifteen years.

My heart sank, then rallied.

Fine. Fifteen years.

At least it would give me something to do.

If fate handed me a chance to learn real inner strength, I’d be a fool not to take it.

Resolved, I curled into bed and drifted into peaceful sleep.