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"Ah, Prince Xiao! Please, come in, come in!"
Xiao entered inside, taking sophisticated steps through the estate with a look of pensive judgement. The servants nervously led him deeper into the home as they walked with quiet steps beside the Prince and the Head of the house.
"You must be tired from such a long journey." The Head offered a closed-eyed smile as he sat his guest inside the spacious room, floored with expensive wood and teal marble. A low table was set in the middle, surrounded by cushioned chairs decorated with arabesque patterns made of gold. "Please, rest your feet as I fetch my daughter."
The nobleman took a seat, accepting the invitation quietly. "Bring our honored guests some tea, will you?" The Head turned towards the nondescript servants with a strained smile, to which they responded with haste bows and scrambling feet.
After giving out his gruff instructions, the Head smiled once more before disappearing out the door, his initially slow steps fading into something more rushed. Xiao maintained his facade of indifference, although sharp eyes inspected the room in intense detail.
The embroidered decorations were banal—clearly the work of an amateaur artist that only referenced advanced works out of ambition. Most of the room was filled with tawdry furniture, indications of wear and use visible on the surface of the material. Clearly, this family hadn't prepared this room for a long while, especially not to house a guest like himself.
Soon enough, the door opened once more to reveal the Head and his beloved daughter. Her lithe figure made its way into the room, her carefully coiffed hair framed by jewels and gems alike. The delicate makeup accentuated her ruddy complexion.
"Prince Xiao." Her voice was gentle, offering the male a coy bow.
Xiao did not stand, nor offer a greeting in response. He had no need to.
"Sit, my dear." The Head led his daughter towards the cushioned chair opposite of Xiao, helping her adjust her sprigged dress.
"Prince Xiao, this is my daughter, Mèng Yáo."
"An honor to meet you, My Prince." With a hand over her heart, she gave a small bow.
"She is to be your newly wed, Your Majesty."
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Mèng Yáo was the only daughter of the [L. Name] family.
That is the verisimilitude maids whispered down the hall. The servants furtively did their duty—not letting a single set of clothes be misplaced, nor a simple grain of rice be left askew—in fear of exposing a fragile truth.
There was another daughter in the house.
The cursed one; the child who should not be spoken of by the tongues of the people. The bad charm the Head must bear—it was his benevolent burden assigned by the Heavens. Many pitied the fate of the Father, and his Daughter who barely survived the cruelty of her kin.
