Pearl was born a general's daughter — until the empire's rebellion took both her parents and left her mind soft, childlike, and trusting. She was taken in by the old family friend, Marquis Crawford, and raised under his roof like a shadow no one wanted. The marquis's son, Cedric, despised her. To him she was a burden, a dumb little ghost dragging through his mansion. When he decided to marry her off to a crude old widower to be rid of her for good, Pearl had no one left to turn to. No mother. No father. No ally. So she did the only brave thing she had left: she wrote a clumsy, tear-stained letter — and sent it three thousand miles north, to the frozen border garrison at Changyang.
To Pierce. The boy general who had once been her father's youngest lieutenant. The only man who had ever been kind to her. Letters took weeks. Replies took longer. But before Pearl could even dread her forced wedding, the drums of victory thundered through the capital: the youngest marshal in the empire was being recalled to the capital, summoned by the emperor himself. A feast was thrown in the palace for him. Pearl was dragged along by Cedric, dressed in borrowed, ill-fitting silk, told to keep her eyes down and her mouth shut.She got lost in the vast palace corridors. Lost and frightened, on the verge of crying — until a tall armored figure stepped out of the shadow.
Pierce. His armor still dusted with border wind. His eyes, cold to every courtier in the room, softened the moment they landed on her.That night, at the imperial banquet, before the emperor and every noble house in the capital, the great young general knelt on one knee. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice ringing through the hall, "I have crossed three thousand miles of snow. I ask for one reward." He lifted his head. He looked straight past the astonished Cedric. "Grant me Pearl. Let me marry her." The hall went dead silent. Cedric's face turned white.