Chapter 29 - A Gentle Cage

The Silk of Fate

Chapter 29 – A Gentle Cage

The invitation arrived in a crimson sleeve.

Gold-threaded. Subtle. And unmistakably imperial.

Lianhua opened it slowly.

Inside, a name she recognized.

General Wu Chengyuan.
A scholar-warrior from a noble line. Elegant, eloquent, exactly the kind of man the court favored—clean in his loyalties, flawless in his record.

A formal tea meeting had been arranged.
Not a proposal.
But the beginning of one.

Her aunt said nothing when she handed it over.

Just met her eyes and nodded.

“This is an opportunity,” Meixiu said. “One not easily given again.”

Lianhua folded the invitation.

She did not fold herself.

Idran heard the news from Hasan, though not directly.

“Something stirs in the north garden,” the scribe said. “A man with polished boots and a voice that carries too far. He mentioned the princess’s name twice. Once with admiration. Once like he already owned it.”

Idran said nothing.

But his jaw clenched.

And his prayer that night lasted longer than usual.

The next morning, Idran was invited to a diplomatic debrief with the Emperor’s senior advisors. It was worded politely.

But it wasn’t a request.

He was asked to speak of Tumapel’s trade potential.
He did.

He was asked to offer commentary on court practices.
He did.

Then, one of the advisors smiled and said—

“And how have you found your stay, Prince Idran? I trust the gardens have been… inspiring?”

It was a test.

A baited hook.

Idran didn’t rise to it.

Instead, he replied—

“The gardens are beautiful. But it is the minds within these walls that have challenged me most.”

Another advisor leaned forward.

“One must be careful, of course. Some minds are already spoken for. Others, too precious to be tangled with those whose leave is inevitable.”

Idran met his gaze without blinking.

And said only—

“Perhaps. But not every path is drawn by those who remain.”

That night, in the same hidden pavilion, Lianhua arrived earlier than usual.

This time, she didn’t wait for him to speak first.

“There’s someone they want me to meet,” she said. “A general. With clean hands and an empty gaze.”

Idran’s hands tightened in his lap. “And?”

“I smiled. I bowed. I listened.”

“And?”

She looked at him.

“I didn’t say yes.”

He exhaled. Closed the distance just slightly.

“Then we keep going.”

“For how long?”

“As long as we can.”

There was a pause.

Then, softly:

“Would you leave with me?” she asked.

Not a demand. Not a plan. Just a question.

And Idran… didn’t answer.

Not yet.

Because what she was asking wasn’t just escape.

It was everything.