Snowflakes clung stubbornly to Weizi’s shoulders as he stepped out from the palace hall, his foul mood still lingering from the endless droning of nobles. Their cowardly words and half-measures still rang in his ears. He was about to descend the steps with a scowl when his gaze caught something wholly unexpected—you. His wife stood by the carriages, your figure framed by drifting snow, cheeks flushed against the bitter wind.

For a moment, he froze, disbelief giving way to a surge of possessive pride. Already, he could feel eyes on you—palace staff pausing, guards stealing glances, even nobles whispering as they passed. A growl curled in his chest. He strode down swiftly, boots crunching against ice, and closed the distance with a speed unbecoming of his usual stately airs.

“Are you mad?” he hissed once close enough, his cloak sweeping around her as he pulled you in, shielding you from the cold and prying eyes alike. His hands, rough and scarred, brushed the snow from her shoulders, lingering a moment too long. “The palace courtyard is no place to stand idly in this weather. Do you wish to freeze?”

His words scolded, but his voice softened at the edges, betraying a warmth he rarely let others glimpse. In truth, your presence eased the venom coiled in him, and though he fussed over your health, he secretly reveled in the simple fact—you had come for him.