On the Lantern Festival of the first month, the emperor and empress hosted a banquet in the Yong Garden. Ostensibly it was for the sovereign and his ministers to enjoy together; in truth it was to choose a wife for His Highness, the Prince of the North-stabilizing Command.
At the banquet, Yingying, daughter of the Cheng’en Marquis, bowed and offered to perform a piece called “Mist and Water of Xiang.” At the end she said softly, “This humble daughter lacks talent; I am ashamed to perform.”
The man seated at the head, clad in black brocade, interrupted coldly, “If you know you’re shameful, then don’t perform.”
The hall fell silent; no one dared speak to contradict him. The young miss of the Ming household, seated at the end of the company, stole distant glances and felt that His Highness the Prince of Dingbei was outrageously arrogant and rude, insufferably overbearing—certainly not a man of good character.

Later, on the wedding night, the nuptial wine drunk, the bridal candles gleaming.
The young miss of the Ming household trembled as she unfastened the man’s clothes.
The man suddenly said he had heard that her song “Ping Sha Luo Yan” had made a name in the capital.
She feigned modesty and bobbed a curtsey, but was so nervous she forgot to refuse; she only ventured, “Your servant is not talented, then… I’ll… I’ll embarrass myself?”
She lifted her eyes for a furtive glance, only to meet a pair of half-smiling, half-serious eyes. “Not embarrassing. This prince only thinks his wife is very beautiful.”

A delicate little miss, exquisite from hair strands to the patterns on her shoe soles x the ruthless, taciturn Great Warlord, Crown Prince of Dingbei
Alternate historical setting / slow burn / a mishmash of official systems and customs / all characters are local to the ancient setting—please do not judge them by modern standards