The Prince Consort's Secret (GL) - Chapter 2

The moment I heard that line, I was completely stunned. A consort…? Don’t tell me I just transmigrated and now I’m about to be served up like a feast? How thrillingly absurd is my life!

But once I calmed down, it didn’t seem so bad. In ancient times, many princesses and their consorts lived in separate residences. If the princess wanted to see him, she had to summon him formally—and sometimes she couldn’t even do that.

So if I didn’t want to deal with him, I could simply never summon him. Even on the wedding night, I could pull rank and order him not to consummate. Of course, that’s assuming I don’t fall in love with him.

So why did my predecessor resort to a hunger strike in protest? Judging by how concerned the Emperor is, he surely wouldn’t marry me off to someone terrible. Could it be that he’s sending me off in a political marriage? That might explain why he’s being especially nice to me now. What else would make a pampered princess go so far as to starve herself?

That being the case, how should I respond now? What should I say? My mind was racing. Anything I said might give me away. It was probably best to say as little as possible, but I also had to find a way to make the

Emperor abandon the idea of a political marriage…

Suddenly, inspiration struck.

I let out a dramatic sob and started to cry—so convincingly that it could move even the hardest heart. Of course, forgive me for not actually shedding tears. I did my best…

And sure enough, the tactic worked. I peeked through my fingers and saw the Emperor hurriedly take out a handkerchief to wipe away my “tears.” That wouldn’t do—I had no tears to wipe! So I kept my face covered and continued to wail, refusing to lower my hands.

The Emperor tugged at them a few times to no avail, then finally softened his tone:

“Are you going to ask me to choose again? Every time you refuse, and now that I’ve made up my mind and even issued the imperial edict, you go and starve yourself!”

His voice grew frustrated, but there was also a note of helplessness. After a pause, he sighed and added, “Do you think a princess of Great Qi can treat her marriage like a child’s game?”

I was dumbstruck. Chosen several times? Then it probably wasn’t a political marriage. This princess must be incredibly favored! From what I recall of history, there was only one period—perhaps the Southern Song—when the emperor had so few children that a princess got to choose her husband multiple times. Did I really transmigrate into someone so pampered?

I was overjoyed inside. But that excitement came at a price… I was so stunned that I stopped crying and forgot to keep my face covered. The next second, the Emperor pried my hands away and I was greeted by the sight of his bright yellow handkerchief. Uh-oh…

I quickly lifted my head, only to see His Majesty looking at me with a complicated expression—half amused, half exasperated. I smiled sheepishly. How could I explain that he should feel free to marry me off—I really didn’t mind. It’s not like marriage is avoidable.

Just moments ago I’d been adamantly refusing to marry, and now I was cheerfully accepting it. He was going to think I’d gone mad.

But then again, if the edict had already been issued, it couldn’t be taken back. No matter how much I protested, the Emperor couldn’t risk the royal family’s reputation. I could pretend to be someone who gave in for the sake of the empire, and maybe he’d feel even more guilty and treat me better. From what I could tell, this princess was spoiled enough that even the smallest concession might deeply move the Emperor.

So I said, in a low voice, “Father.”

He turned to look at me. I continued, “I won’t trouble you anymore. Since the decree is already out… I’ll go through with the marriage.”

It was only after saying all that that I realized—my voice hadn’t changed. It still sounded like my voice from my previous life. That… was strange.

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, scanning me from head to toe.

“Rou’er,” he asked, “do you really mean that?”

I nodded somberly. “Yes.”

I made sure to put on a gloomy expression. It was exhausting—especially with my stomach growling again. I really needed to eat soon…

The Emperor studied me for a moment longer, clearly still doubting me. After a pause, he asked, “You won’t regret this?”

I murmured, “Even if I do, what can I do? The edict’s already been issued. I said I wouldn’t make things difficult for you.”

He still didn’t look convinced. I finally gave up trying to explain and said mournfully, “Father… I’m hungry.”

That made him chuckle. He turned and looked at the attendants. The refined young physician nodded, and a maid brought over a bowl of porridge. I reached for it eagerly, but just as I was about to dig in like a starving beast, I remembered: I’m a princess—I need to maintain my dignity. Earlier I was disoriented, so devouring food like that was forgivable… right?

Now I ate slowly, spoon by spoon.

The Emperor’s voice came again:

“Since you’ve come around, all the better. I’ll have the dowry prepared and have the court pick an auspicious day for the wedding.”

I quickly replied, “That sounds great,” and resumed eating.

The Emperor rose to leave. I was secretly relieved. Please let me rest now—I’ve had enough drama for one morning.

Still, I should at least pretend to send him off properly. I reluctantly put the bowl down.

The Emperor smiled.

“Such rare sensibility from Rou’er. Since everything’s settled, I’ll return to the palace. You should rest well—and no more nonsense.”

I nodded repeatedly, about to say something appropriately respectful like, Your daughter cannot rise to see Your Majesty off, but he turned abruptly and said:

“Guards! Each of the princess’s personal attendants shall receive thirty strikes!”

Several guards responded at once and began dragging the maids away. I was startled. These were just young girls—how could they endure such punishment?

I immediately smiled and said,

“Father, they’re only servants. If I insisted on starving, what could they do? Please don’t punish them. I promise not to be reckless again.”

Seeing them kneeling and trembling, I actually felt a bit guilty.

The Emperor paused, then said to the maids:

“This time, I’ll spare you for the princess’s sake. But if anything happens to her again, thirty strikes will be the least of your worries!”

With that, he strode out. The doctors, eunuchs, and guards all bowed to me before following him out. I called after him, “Thank you, Father!” but he was already gone. I hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye properly…

I chuckled to myself. Clearly, Father didn’t believe I’d obediently comply. Now he was using the maids’ safety to keep me in line. Don’t worry, Your Majesty—I’ll take good care of myself.

My stomach rumbled again. I picked up the bowl and finished the porridge. Then I took another, and another—three bowls in total. At last, I felt full. But porridge doesn’t have much nutrition. I’d be hungry again soon. Still, after starving for several days, this was all I could manage.

I told the maids I was done. They immediately knelt and said tearfully:

“Your Highness, please don’t do anything reckless again. If something happens to you, no number of lives could repay it!”

Huh, they don’t call themselves “servants” here? That’s fine—Dream of the Red Chamber maids didn’t either.

They were all beautiful, with teary eyes. I couldn’t tell if they were crying out of genuine concern or just fear of the Emperor’s wrath—probably the latter.

I smiled and said, “I won’t. You can all get up now.”

They stood. I looked over the eight of them, wondering how I could start learning more about this world. I didn’t even know their names—what should I ask first?

Four of them said they’d stand watch in the outer room and left. The four who remained must be the personal attendants.

One came over, tucked in my blanket, and began massaging my legs as she said,

“Princess, you really need to change. You’re not a child anymore… You worry us so much.”

Being waited on like this felt amazing. And their tone wasn’t one of subordinates speaking to a master—it was more like friends. The other three casually sat at a small table, munching sunflower seeds. What do I do now? I don’t even know them. What if I slip up?

While trying to figure out how to ask their names naturally, I started observing the room. It was filled with elegant, antique charm—exactly my taste. Not too flashy, nor too dull.

My eyes skimmed over bookshelves, a guqin… Everything here felt strangely familiar. Even the maids looked somehow familiar. I suddenly felt disoriented, as if I were dreaming.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” one of the maids asked cheerfully, holding out a plate of shelled seeds.

“Nothing…” I said, suppressing an unexpected wave of sadness. Then my gaze landed on a bronze mirror and a wooden comb, and I realized—I still hadn’t seen what I looked like in this life.

I quickly asked for the mirror.

Taking it, I steeled myself—but was still shocked.

The face in the mirror… was unmistakably mine. Just as I looked in my past life.