MY PRINCE HUSBAND HAS SEVEN WIVES AND I AM HIS FAVOURITE!
Chapter 48: can’t tell me if he is alive or dead?

Chapter 48: can’t tell me if he is alive or dead?

Similar scenes played out in the other consorts’ chambers. One by one, soldiers arrived, delivering the Emperor’s decree with the same grim efficiency.

Each consort was left with a mixture of fear, confusion, and curiosity.

In the courtyard of the Sixth Consort, a loud commotion erupted as the message was delivered.

The Sixth Consort, a younger woman with a sharp tongue, immediately called for her attendants.

"What happened to the prince? Speak!" she demanded, gripping the soldier’s arm tightly.

The soldier remained stoic. "The Crown Prince’s safety remains uncertain, Your Grace. We have been instructed to deliver His Majesty’s orders and return to duty."

The Sixth Consort’s face twisted with frustration. "Uncertain? You can’t tell me if he’s alive or dead?"

...

Meanwhile, in the courtyard of the First Consort, a hushed meeting was already taking place. Several consorts had gathered, their voices low but urgent.

"What happened to the Seventh Consort?" the Fourth Consort asked, her tone sharp. "That little minx looked like she was made of trouble. There’s something unsettling about her that I can’t quite place. If anything, she’s to be blamed for all of this."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with accusation.

The Sixth Consort, who had been fanning herself despite the cold, quickly chimed in. "She’s the reason the prince went on that ridiculous honeymoon. If he hadn’t gone, none of this would have happened!"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group.

"I’ve always said she was out of place," the Fourth Consort continued, her jealousy barely masked by her indignation. "Who is she, really? A nobody. She doesn’t have the pedigree or the refinement to be one of us. It’s no wonder things have turned out this way."

The Second Consort, standing by the window, turned sharply. "Do you hear yourselves? Instead of finding ways to help, you’re all gossiping like common fishwives. The prince could be..." She trailed off, the thought too grim to voice aloud.

"Could be what?" the Fourth Consort challenged, crossing her arms. "If something happens to him, the blame lies with her. That’s all there is to it."

The First Consort, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally spoke. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. "Enough. Speculating like this won’t change anything. We don’t know the full story yet."

"But don’t you find it strange?" the Sixth Consort pressed. "The prince marries her, and suddenly he’s ambushed on their honeymoon? It’s too much of a coincidence."

"I do find it strange," the First Consort admitted, her gaze distant. "But pointing fingers without evidence is pointless. We should wait for His Majesty’s orders and focus on what we can do."

Despite her measured words, a flicker of jealousy danced in her eyes. She remembered the day the prince had announced his intention to marry Hua Jing.

It had sent shockwaves through the palace. Unlike the rest of them, whose marriages to the prince had been arranged for political alliances and family influence, Hua Jing was handpicked by Zhao Yan himself.

The First Consort clenched her fists at the memory.

None of them had received such favor. When they had married the prince, their unions were marked by duty, formality, and distance.

But Hua Jing? Not only did Zhao Yan choose her, but he also took her on a honeymoon—a gesture he had vehemently denied to every one of them.

For the rest of the consorts, there had been no romantic trips or special treatment. And now, it seemed that Hua Jing had brought misfortune to him.

The Fourth Consort scoffed, breaking the tense silence. "If only the prince had married a noblewoman, someone from a proper family, instead of that illegitimate child Hua Jing, then this would never have happened! She’s brought nothing but bad luck to him."

Everyone in the empire knew about Hua Jing and her background.

What surprised most was that the prince would choose this illegitimate daughter to be his consort!

The Second Consort narrowed her eyes. "You’re speaking as if you weren’t hoping to be the one he chose. Let’s not pretend we all didn’t wish to be in her position."

The Fourth Consort’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

Her face flushed with embarrassment and frustration, but she couldn’t deny the truth of the accusation.

She turned away, mumbling under her breath.

The Sixth Consort sighed dramatically, fanning herself as if to dispel the tension. "But why her? Of all people, why her? She doesn’t have the pedigree, the manners, or the grace to be part of this palace, let alone his seventh consort."

"She’s a disgrace to the title," the Fourth Consort muttered, still simmering.

The First Consort raised a hand, silencing them both. "Whatever grievances you have, now is not the time to air them. We have a situation to address, and the Emperor will not tolerate our petty squabbles."

"But you can’t deny it," the Sixth Consort pressed. "The prince chose her, and now he’s out there, ambushed and fighting for his life. It’s too much of a coincidence. She’s a magnet for trouble."

The First Consort’s gaze hardened, though she didn’t reply immediately.

Deep down, even she couldn’t suppress the gnawing suspicion that Hua Jing’s sudden presence in Zhao Yan’s life was tied to the turmoil they were now facing.

Yet, her voice remained firm as she said, "What matters now is His Highness’s safety. Blame and speculation can wait."

The Second Consort folded her arms. "I agree. Instead of gossiping, we should focus on how to assist the Emperor and ensure the prince’s safe return. Whether we like Hua Jing or not is irrelevant right now."

The Fourth Consort huffed, clearly dissatisfied, but she didn’t press further.

The group fell into an uneasy silence, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls.

Though they outwardly agreed to set aside their grievances, the air between them crackled with tension.

The jealousy, the bitterness, and the fear for Zhao Yan’s life hung heavy in the room.

The First Consort finally rose to her feet, her voice steady but commanding. "Prepare yourselves. If the Emperor orders us to act, we must be ready."