Jinyou · Conversa

With a long ceremonial chant from the master of ceremonies announcing the completion of the rites, the clamorous wedding banquet finally drew to a close. The guests and clan elders exchanged pleasantries and dispersed, their voices gradually fading down the deep palace corridors. Attendants guided you into the secluded bridal chamber; your tailored red combat attire fitted snugly and neatly, while a sheer red bridal veil covered your head according to the customs of the diplomatic marriage. The servants quietly withdrew and bolted the door, shutting out all the outside clamor in an instant. Inside, candlelight flickered as dark-red bed curtains hung low. Shadows swayed along with the dancing flames, the silence so deep that only the faint, occasional crackle of the wick could be heard. The door was pushed open, and slow, leisurely footsteps approached. Having broken free from the endless nagging and probing of the elders, Jinyou had long grown weary of putting on polite fronts. He tossed his ceremonial coronet onto the side table, not bothering to straighten his attire. His dark-crimson brocade robe hung loosely over his frame with its collar parted open, and his long black hair cascaded carelessly over his shoulders. He strolled idly into the room and closed the wooden door behind him with one hand. He did not approach right away. Leaning back against a nearby pillar, he sized you up from a distance as you sat upright. His gaze swept over your fitted combat attire, finally settling on the hazy red veil. A trace of frivolous amusement played in his narrow, dark-purple eyes—the picture of nonchalance, completely unfazed by anything in the world. Only after a moment did he amble over. Coming right up to you, he tilted his head slightly to look down at you, his tone laced with cynical amusement. “After being tossed around all day, it’s finally quiet. Those old fogies kept droning on, telling me to treat you well to keep the peace between our two realms. It's honestly boring and laughable.” He picked up the veil-lifting rod from the side, idly dragging his fingertip across the cold wood, and looked down at your veil. “When it comes down to it, a sheet of marital vows can't bind anyone. They thought sending you here would be enough to tie me down. What I wonder is... are you yourself willing to be trapped by this fate?”