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She stared ahead, her throat working before she continued. “In that moment when I held the elixir, all I could think of was you and me, and how much I wanted us to live. When I drank it, I chose my husband’s death before mine. I chose a life without him. I chose—us.” Her voice throbbed with sudden emotion. “I will never be free of my sorrow. And yet, I would do it again, even knowing all which came after. Because it meant I had you.”

Tears fell from her like a scattering of rain. I cursed myself for my thoughtless question. For asking it, despite knowing it would grieve her. But we could not keep hiding and burying our hurt, especially from those we loved. I had learned that through the pain lay forgiveness, growth, and the eventual healing of our wounds. It struck me then, perhaps my mother and I were more similar than I had imagined. We had both seized the opportunities which came our way, we had both chosen to live.

Slowly, her fingers slipped from my grasp like she had forgotten my presence. Her gaze fixed on the gleaming characters of my father’s name on the headstone, her lips moving to mouth them in silence. His legacy and achievements carved into immutable stone. Forever ingrained in the memory of the world he had saved, for as long as there were books to read and songs to sing. He would never be forgotten. But it was an empty solace for those who loved him.

Rising to my feet, I joined Liwei by the bank of the river. We stood in silence, watching the water glistening in the sunlight as the breeze toyed with our hair. The air in the mortal world was filled with a myriad of scents; blossoming flowers, decaying leaves, the earthy river water thrumming with life.

He turned to me then. “I asked Princess Fengmei to release me from our betrothal.”

I stared at him in disbelief, unsure of what to say. “Why? When?” I finally asked.

He shot me a rueful smile. “Need you ask why? After you left, I visited Princess Fengmei. I told her the truth, what I should have told her long before. She deserved more than what I had to offer: a heart that would never be hers. She was most understanding. And she asked me to tell you, she hoped we would find happiness together. I think she knew since the day you rescued her.”

I recalled her clear gaze when it had fallen upon our Sky Drop Tassels, when she realized they were a matched pair. I did not wish to hurt her . . . but oh, I could not deny the joy blossoming through me now.

“What about the alliance?”

“The Phoenix Kingdom reaffirmed its support for the Celestial Kingdom. While the tie will not be as strong as one bound through marriage, they will remain our friend and ally. Both the queen and she remain grateful for our aid.”

He took my hand, pressing it against his chest—where his heart pounded as loudly as my own. His eyes shone with unbridled emotion. As his other palm cupped the curve of my cheek, I leaned unconsciously against him, drawn to his remembered warmth. “My heart is yours; it has always been yours,” he said. “You don’t have to answer me now. I know you need time to be with your mother and to think things through. I was wrong before; I did not fight hard enough for us then. But I will never fail you again.” He spoke the last words as solemnly as a vow.

The emotions suffusing me left no room for speech. It was as though the sun had emerged from behind the clouds, illuminating the sky. The shadows might return, but for now I would bask in its radiance.

As dusk crept up, we flew back to the moon. Before he left, Liwei helped me to set up the protection wards. Our home was no longer forbidden to immortals and while we welcomed visitors, we needed to exercise caution. Together, we wove our magic into threads of power which stretched all around the Pure Light Palace. When I paused, exhausted by my efforts, Liwei took over. As he closed his eyes, his energy erupted in a surge of light, circling our wards before vanishing.

“I’ve added another layer of protection to detect those who conceal their form, whether Demon, spirit, or Celestial. While it cannot prevent their entry, it will hopefully give you sufficient warning,” he explained.

At the gravity in his tone, the blood drained from my face. “Celestial?” I repeated, stumbling over the word. I had thought we were done with the intrigue, the danger and fear.

Liwei’s face darkened. “There are no plots that I am aware of. However, my parents are displeased that the army intervened to lend you their support. Whispers have reached their ears that their capitulation here is viewed by many as a sign of weakness. Some begin to question again the wisdom of their past decisions—imprisoning the dragons, exiling the Moon Goddess. Allowing the sunbirds to roam unfettered.”

A chill swept over me. “All I ever wanted was to go home and free my mother. I never intended any of this as a challenge. I just want to live here, in peace.”

“We cannot control what others fear. But you won’t be alone. I will be with you, for as long as you let me.” Liwei took my frozen hands, lifting them to his lips and blowing his warm breath over them. “I’m just being careful. These are rumblings and rumors, nothing to worry about for now.”

I nodded woodenly. Rumblings and rumors in the wrong ears could still bear dire consequences.

That night, after Liwei had left, I tossed and turned before I fell asleep. And even in slumber I found no rest—lost in a vivid dream where I stood on the balcony, gazing at the sky. The clouds were a strange color, almost violet. As a tall figure came to stand beside me, his green robe swirled in the breeze.

He stared at me with those silvery eyes, as though waiting for me to speak.

“Thank you for letting us go. But it does not erase all you did,” I said stiffly.

“I meant what I said. That I would never force you against your will again.” There was a wistful note in his tone, one I had never heard before. “I did not realize what we had until it was lost. If only we could start over, I would do things differently.”

I did not answer him. I did not know what to say.

“There is something I want to ask you.”

“You can ask but I may not answer,” I countered, unwilling to be drawn deeper into a conversation that brought back too many unsettling memories.

Though he smiled, there was a hollowness about it. “Would you indulge me? I’ve missed your company.”

“I’ve not missed yours.” A half-truth, a half-lie. I reminded myself that whatever I missed was the illusion of our companionship, not the reality of his deception.

His eyes flashed. “On the rooftop, before the dragon carried you away—would you have shot me?”

I had asked myself that countless times before. And now, I finally knew the answer. “No.” His honesty deserved no less than mine.