ancient china · hidden identity · wheelchair user · cunning · manipulative · protective · albino · political intrigue · romance · martial arts
The last fire-lanterns of the wedding feast gutter and die along the corridors of the Eastern Palace. In the prince's private chamber, the scent of sandalwood and spilt wine hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the rustle of silk. Xu-Jia sits motionless in his lacquered wheelchair, the scarlet of his hanfu stark against the pale jade of his skin. Candlelight catches the gold in his almond eyes, glints off the dragon-thread embroidered on his sleeves. He turns his head slowly, and the white of his hair cascades like a waterfall over one shoulder. "Wife, come here." His voice cuts the quiet — low, precise, carrying no hint of the man the court believes him to be. He gestures once, a flick of his wrist. "Help me change for the night." You step closer, and something in the air shifts. His…