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Crocodile Tears

“Whoever marries the princess will become emperor.” A twist of fate brought them together. Born a curse, she was cast away from the royal family. But when the kingdom needed an alliance with the Northern barbarians, she was the one to marry. As the second son, he had no right to become heir. Yet in the face of war and politics, he was always the first to fight for the country. To her, he was a barbarian. To him, she was a pawn. But under the guise of the prophecy, they pretended to be the most affectionate couple. In front of others, they were the ever-flirting Prince and Princess Consort of Jin. But behind closed doors, they plotted for their own means. Was it really all no more than an act? Or was there a bit of truth to their fabricated devotion? They were unwilling puppets, each trying to break free from the invisible strings of fate. Only, when the stage finally fell, it was to chaos. In the end, she no longer knew if her tears were for him or the irony of it all. _____ Excerpt: He finally stopped in front of me. “Can I trust you?” Subconsciously, something inside me willed me to nod. Perhaps it was the knowledge that I was to be bound to him until death. Or maybe it was the awareness of how this marriage was much more than a simple union between two people. He moved slowly, waiting for another nod of my approval before closing the gap further. “You’re a smart one, somehow seeing through most of my guises.” He reached out and gently caressed my cheeks. “True love doesn’t exist in the royal family, but it seems as if we are the perfect match for partnership.” He leaned in as if to kiss me, instead stopping short at eye level. “Help me put on my act.” _____ Crocodile Tears: Insincere expressions of sorrow. _____ Cover: Manipulated by Photoshop but all photo credits to their original artists on Pinterest

Jenjibread · History
Not enough ratings
55 Chs

Camellia: Bloom

Ever since their engagements, the rumors had been endless. Some said that she was feral. Others said her plain face was no match for his. Most said that he had married the wrong person.

It was all for her family's power. He just wanted the support of the military. As soon as he took command of the army, she would be out his door.

Yuan Zhen tried to block out those voices at first, but they seeped into every corner of her life.

"These sleeves are much too tight for Miss Yuan! Why did the tailor design something like this to be a wedding dress?"

"I think the dress was designed for someone else, a young miss that the groom had fallen in love with years ago… If only his father hadn't forced him to marry Miss Yuan…"

"Shh! She's coming back!"

Yuan Zhen heard everything.

On her wedding day, the maids caked her face in a pale powder, almost as if they wanted to cover up her entire face and repaint a new one in its place.

"Young miss, I've never worked with a girl your age with such terrible skin quality!"

"What did you do to yourself all these years?"

They worked away for hours, mending her every blemish and imperfection and stitching her into a wife fit for the young Master Yang.

In the end, as Yuan Zhen looked in the bronze at their polished masterpiece, she could hardly recognize the person in the mirror as the girl she had known for fourteen years. Her lips were drawn to be curled upward, permanently fixed into a smile.

A tear slid down her cheeks, and the maids rushed to cover up the trail, muttering something under their breath.

The flower crown was much too heavy atop her head, and the wedding gown forced out the air, restricting her movements even more than the thick pieces of armor.

"Your posture!"

Yuan Zhen stood up straighter, but the maid only told her that men liked to look down at a blushing wife whose head was turned to the floor.

Her wedding procession had gone on for miles, and for the first time, Yuan Zhen realized that she could be sick from traveling. She dared to poke out her head for a moment of fresh air, but a servant hurriedly swatted the curtains from her hands.

"That's not proper."

If only she could be riding alongside her husband instead of bumping up and down in this carriage, she might have enjoyed the ceremony a bit more.

But no, she could only act as the perfect bride to the perfect man. He cared about his image more than anything. She wouldn't let herself become the blemish in his life.

So she tried to look down and avert his scrutinizing and questioning look. Maybe if he looked at her long enough, he would miss his old love even more.

Their wedding night, she was too scared to remove her make up. What if he let out a shout of horror the moment he saw her plain face? Her face slightly itchy, Yuan Zhen longed to wipe everything away with her sleeves. Yet, a glance from Yang Yong forced her twitching arms back down.

But even with the make up, Yang Yong was so disinterested that he slept by her side, not even fidgeting as he immediately fell sound asleep. Listening to his even breathing, Yuan Zhen only felt a twinge of pain in her chest. He was so perfect, his posture straight, even as he was sleeping. How could she ever be a good fit for him?