“Yes! Before the bonding ceremony.”
Silence.
Poppy blinked again. “Bonding… what?”
Xu Yunlian appeared in the doorway with a serene smile. “Minghua means your formal integration into the clan,” she corrected. “Not… whatever she was implying.”
“Oh,” Poppy breathed, relieved—
“And the wedding,” Minghua added cheerfully.
Poppy choked.
Mingxi choked harder.
Caelan, walking by, choked too.
“We’re not—” Mingxi sputtered.
Xu Yunlian patted his shoulder. “Not yet, sweetie.”
Poppy covered her face.
Lysandra peeked her head in. “I ship it.”
“What do you even mean? What is ship it?” Mingxi snapped.
Lysandra smiled serenely. “Don’t worry about it, Fox.”
Mingxi threw his hands in the air and stalked out of the room to the sound of Lysandra’s laughter.
The sky was still violet when Caelan tightened the straps on his traveling pack outside the Shen main hall. Mist pooled low along the paths of Huoyáo Jìng, catching foxfire lantern light and throwing it up like stars beneath their feet.
Poppy stood beside Mingxi, wrapped in a warm shawl Xu Yunlian had insisted she take. Her hair was still mussed from sleep. Mingxi looked only marginally more awake.
Lysandra sat on a roof beam above them, swinging her legs. “This is going to go horribly wrong,” she sing-songed.
Caelan glared up. “I’ll be gone two days.”
“Two days of tragedy.”
“Lysandra, I swear—”
“Caelan, sweetie,” she said, “you are a magnetic disaster beacon, and I say that with love.”
Minghua wandered out with a yawn and a pastry. “She may be right. Be careful.”
Caelan ran a hand down his face. “I seriously dislike all of you.”
Poppy stepped forward, touching his arm gently. “Travel safe. And send word.”
He exhaled, something soft flickering behind the stoicism. “I will.” He looked at Mingxi next. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
Mingxi lifted a brow. “Me?”
Caelan pointed directly at Mingxi’s tails. “Those are the definition of stupid.”
Mingxi scowled.
