Bride of the Forgotten Prince: Wedding Behind Bars

The bed was simply too small for two people, and they had unwittingly occupied almost every inch of it. As Shuixin shifted toward the wall, trying to give him more space, the proximity between them remained so close that they could almost feel each other's breath.

She was flustered… but before she could blush, the exhaustion of a long day's work overtook her. A yawn escaped her lips, and she soon drifted into a deep sleep.

Xiao Yeheng, whose eyes had been closed until now, suddenly opened them.

In the prison, he spent most of his time resting. But with her beside him, something felt different—he couldn't fall asleep. There was an odd emptiness within him, yet her presence gave a strange sense of comfort.

He turned his body to face her, gazing at her peaceful face in the dim light. His eyes softened with an affection he hadn't even noticed growing inside him. His usual cold, detached demeanor melted under the quiet tenderness that welled up.

The bed had no blankets, and though he struggled to prop himself up slightly, he was aware of the chill in the air. With a quiet sigh, he took off his outer garment and gently draped it over her, shielding her from the cold.

It was late spring, and even a thin layer of clothing offered little warmth. Still, her shivering body, curled up in sleep, seemed to soften against the warmth of his touch.

His hand hovered over his scarred left cheek, his fingers brushing the smooth surface of the artificial eye in his socket—reminders of the ravaged life he now led. His left leg, festering with gangrene, burned with pain that kept him grounded in the reality of his brokenness. Every part of him was a reminder of how far he had fallen.

But when he looked at her, even the imperfections of her face, the acne marking her skin, appeared beautiful to him. It was as if in her, everything was perfect, even in its flaws.

He knew he was likely to die soon. His life had been nothing but a string of wounds and brokenness. But in these moments, she was the one who treated him with kindness. She was the only one who truly cared. Even if death was near, he was determined to engrave her image into his heart, to remember her forever.

Shuixin had no idea what was running through his mind. In the depths of her dreams, she felt the warmth of a large furnace beside her. Her body instinctively curled closer to it, seeking the comfort she so desperately needed. But even then, it didn't seem enough. She buried herself fully in his embrace, her slender arm crossing over his waist.

Xiao Yeheng stiffened. He thought for a moment that she was trying to seduce him. His heart raced, panic tightening in his chest.

After what seemed like an eternity, he realized she wasn't trying to provoke him. Her breathing was slow and steady, her scent soft, like fragrant orchids. The tension in his body began to ease.

But then, her feet—those small, delicate things—shifted like tentacles, entangling him. Her foot, unbidden, pressed against his injured left leg, the one so badly swollen and filled with pus. The pain was immediate, and he gasped as it shot through him like fire.

Under normal circumstances, he would have erupted in anger, lashing out. But strangely, he did not. Despite the excruciating pain, he didn't push her away. He couldn't bring himself to do it, even though the hurt was intense.

For the rest of the night, Shuixin slept soundly, held within the warmth of his body, without a care. It was as though the world around them had faded away, leaving only this cocoon of warmth.

Xiao Yeheng, however, lay wide-eyed, unable to sleep. His gaze remained fixed on her for hours, the woman who had unknowingly come to mean everything to him.

After what seemed like an eternity, the first light of dawn seeped through the cracks in the walls, and Shuixin awoke naturally. She stretched and was met with the feeling of a hard surface. Frowning, she opened her eyes, only to discover that she was lying in Xiao Yeheng's arms—her hand and foot somehow entangled with his.

For a moment, she froze, horrified. She quickly jerked herself upright, feeling the rush of blood to her cheeks. "Your Highness, I... I..." she stammered, her voice low with embarrassment. "I sleep terribly."

His outer garment had slipped off her, and as her eyes scanned his body, she noticed the wound on his leg had worsened overnight. The infection had spread, oozing more pus. She felt her foot, sticky and wet—his blood had mixed with the pus.

Her mind reeled as she put two and two together. The way she had been lying on him... She had pressed directly onto his injured leg. There was no way it hadn't worsened.

"I'm so sorry! So sorry!" she blurted, her face full of guilt as she glanced at his wound. "I must have pressed on it all night... I'm so sorry."

Xiao Yeheng's gaze was cold, but there was a trace of frustration in his voice. "Well, now you know ," he said icily. "What are you going to do about it?"

Shuixin thought for a moment, searching for a solution. "I don't have much to offer... but perhaps..."

She trailed off, her mind racing with thoughts of how to make amends. Her eyes flickered to his left leg, her heart aching. It was the one part of him that was irreparably damaged, his once-pristine leg now reduced to a remnant of itself. If she truly had any means of healing him, she would try. But for now, her options were limited.

He had been forced into a corner by his injuries. His pride, too, had been stripped away in the face of his pain and suffering. He didn't want pity. Not from anyone.

She straightened up, glancing at him as she offered the only thing she could think of. "I'll be more careful... and take better care of you. I'll rub your shoulders, massage your back... whatever you need. I'll make sure you're comfortable."

He frowned, clearly dissatisfied. "We don't have tea in here. And massaging me? With your hands?" He scoffed. "If I keep enduring this, I'll die before I heal."

"Your Highness, you'll live for many more years," she said softly, smiling in an attempt to lift his spirits. "The King of An can't possibly die now, can he?"

Xiao Yeheng's lone eye narrowed as he fixed his gaze on her. "You want me to survive?"

She nodded earnestly, her voice sincere. "Yes, Your Highness. I need you to stay alive."

A flicker of warmth stirred within him. He had long given up hope of survival, but hearing her words, he found himself unwilling to die now. Not when someone cared.

Xiao Yeheng hesitated before speaking again. "In a while, I'll have the guards come in. Don't be afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Shuixin asked, confused.

Xiao Yeheng clenched his teeth, looking down at his severed leg. "My leg is beyond saving. It's rotting. I will ask the guards to lend me a knife and cut it off."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "No!"

"I won't survive much longer if it continues to decay," he said flatly, his tone devoid of emotion. "If you want me to live, this is the only way. If you're scared, close your eyes."

Shuixin stared at him, her heart pounding. She couldn't bear to imagine him taking a knife to himself. She could never do it—no one should have to.

"The guards here are always looking for excitement. A knife won't be hard to get," he said with a nonchalant shrug, as if discussing a mere triviality.

"No! I won't let you do it!" Shuixin cried out, her heart breaking.

He scowled. "You just said you didn't want me to die. Now, when it comes to saving me, you oppose it?"

Her mind raced. Did he think she wanted him to die?

Her gaze softened, and she touched his disfigured leg gently. "You're so handsome, Your Highness... Even though your leg's been ruined, don't let it get worse. I'll find a way to heal it."

His body shuddered as her fingers brushed the infected wound, a stark reminder of his lost beauty. But her words—however distant they might have been—were still comforting.

"Without a doctor, without medicine, there's no hope," he muttered.

"But I am a doctor." She pointed to herself with quiet confidence. "I will find a way to get you the medicine."

He didn't believe her. She was a sheltered woman, after all. But her determination made something in him flicker. "The warden's given orders—no medicine for me."

"Why?"

"They enjoy watching a broken man like me waste away. They love to see someone who was once so powerful and noble reduced to this—dying slowly, alone."

Shuixin's heart sank as she realized that her attempts to ask the warden for medicine would be futile. She could see that now.

But she wasn't going to give up.

She quickly untied the cloth around his leg, carefully putting it back on him. "Give me one more day. If I can't find medicine tonight, then... you can make your own decision."

She didn't want to be the one who wielded the knife. If it came to that, she would let him make the choice.