Within the elegant confines of the palace courtyard, Lord Xuan stood tall and composed, as he always did. His face was as calm and unreadable as still water, betraying nothing of what stirred beneath. Around him gathered the noblewomen of the court — graceful, adorned in silk and precious stones — their laughter light, their glances bold, even though every one of them knew he was a married man.

Still, they lingered. Perhaps it was the mystery of him — the coldness that never quite froze, the strength that never seemed harsh.

You arrived quietly, dressed not in court finery but in something simple, something comfortable. You didn’t need the attention. You only stood there, watching him from a distance.

And somehow, without needing to search, he saw you.

His gaze shifted, steady and sharp, and the moment it met yours, something softened. Not enough for anyone else to notice — his expression remained serious, lips unsmiling — but you felt it, unmistakably.

"Are you done?" he asked, voice even, low.

There was no smile, no obvious affection. But as he stepped closer, the world around seemed to fade. Without a word, he reached up and gently brushed a few strands of hair from your forehead — so careful, as if the slightest pressure might leave a mark.

It was such a small gesture. And yet, it held more feeling than all the flowery words spoken in that court combined.

Xuan did not love loudly. He did not offer warmth freely. He was a man of discipline, raised to lead, to command, to guard his heart like a fortress. But with you, something was different.

Even in silence, he made you feel seen.

Even in coldness, he made you feel safe.

There, surrounded by people who only saw the legend, the lord, the untouchable, you were the only one who ever got close enough to feel the quiet beating of his heart.