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His hand curled into a fist on the table. “I shouldn’t be here. I stayed away as long as I could. But when you were in the Mortal Realm, I could not help fearing that you might be in danger. That you might not return.”

His confession slashed through my carefully constructed defenses. How I hated this weakness which stirred in me, this futile yearning for what was lost. How easy it would be to admit the ache in my chest, to reach for him as I had dreamed. But he was promised to another, and I would not settle for less than I had to give.

I laughed instead, a short, harsh sound—indifference and mockery my armor in this struggle. “Do you think so little of my abilities?”

He stared at me unflinchingly. “Xingyin, that is unfair. You know how highly I regard you.”

“Not enough, it would seem. Don’t speak to me of what’s unfair, Liwei.” I cursed myself for the lapse of his name, the sudden brightness which flared in his eyes. “You made your choice clear the night you betrothed yourself to another. I made mine clear when I left. It’s unfair of you to come to me now, when you must realize it unsettles me.”

I should have stopped there, but my resentment and anger spilled from me now. “You told me you loved me. You broke my heart. You didn’t even tell me of your engagement yourself. Was that fair?” Bitter words and yet, it was a relief to have spoken them aloud.

“No.” His voice was hoarse. “You have every right to despise me. Just know, if I could choose, it would be you.”

He ran a hand through his hair as he did when he was distressed. How I wished I did not know these things about him, and that he did not move me so.

“I was going to tell you. The betrothal was not meant to be announced that night, but my mother persuaded my father otherwise.”

My breath shook as I drew it in. I was wrong; the empress had not waited to retaliate, and her blow struck truer than she could have ever hoped. It did not matter; nothing would have changed. He was the Crown Prince. Marriage was his duty, and I should have realized that from the start.

A heavy silence fell over us. Part of me wished he would leave, so I could sink back into the bed and lose myself in the numbness of slumber. And yet, a weaker part of me thrived on his presence still—drinking in his face, the sound of his voice, yearning for his touch—despite knowing the anguish which would come after.

I steeled myself to ask, “Has the wedding date been set?” There it was, said aloud, the bandage ripped clean from the wound. Was it not better to battle the monster in the open than leave it lurking in the shadows, unsure when it might strike?

The light leeched from his eyes. “The betrothal gifts have been exchanged, though the ceremony won’t be for years. Princess Fengmei and I are still young, and I’ve asked for the time to devote myself to my duties. Perhaps then, things might be different.”

He did not sound like an eager bridegroom. Nor did I understand the delay when the exchange of gifts was a commitment as binding as the signing of the betrothal contract. Who would dare come between an alliance of the two most powerful families in the realm? I had asked the question, invited the pain, peeling away the last stubborn shred of hope from my heart. Yet how sharp the regret which stabbed me now, the claws of jealousy which raked me.

Someone rapped on my door. Was it Shuxiao, calling me for the evening meal? I would be glad for any distraction. Striding to the doors, I wrenched them apart, a welcoming smile on my lips—

It was Captain Wenzhi who stood in the entrance, out of his armor and in a black robe. “The healer said she was sent away before she could attend to you.” At the sight of Liwei, he stiffened before bowing in greeting. “Your Highness, I did not expect to find you in the soldiers’ quarters.”

Liwei’s expression turned cool, sliding into the imperial mask he wore so easily. “Captain Wenzhi, you are most solicitous of your soldiers. Even visiting them at this late hour.”

“Indeed I am, Your Highness. Particularly of those injured.” He stalked into the room, unflustered by Liwei’s hostility.

As they stared at each other, their gazes flat and unblinking, my head began to throb.

Finally, Liwei turned to me. “I am at ease knowing you’ve returned.” He nodded tersely to Captain Wenzhi, who responded with another short bow. From the set of his shoulders, I knew he was displeased as he left.

“Why should your return weigh on Prince Liwei’s mind?” Captain Wenzhi asked, taking the stool newly vacated. With a surge of his magic, he heated the water in the pot, brewing a fresh pot of jasmine tea and pouring me a cup.

I took a sip, relishing its delicate fragrance and soothing warmth. “We’re friends. We studied together.”

“He didn’t seem friendly. Neither did you.”

I kept my face blank, setting the cup back down. “Captain Wenzhi, did you come for a particular reason or just to stir up trouble where there is none?”

“I came to check on your injuries. How are they?”

“Healed.” I stretched out my arms to show him the renewed skin, relieved to find his wounds had vanished, too.

A strange expression crossed his face. “You’re fortunate to have been attended to so well.”

I snatched my arms back. He knew the healer had not attended to me. “How was your audience with His Celestial Majesty?” A clumsy attempt to divert his attention.

“The emperor was pleased. You would be in line for a promotion should you decide to make this a career.” His tone lifted like he was asking a question.

I cared not for that, yet this was a promising start to the journey I hoped would bring me home. “I’m not going anywhere. If they want to give me a new title, though, I wouldn’t mind yours,” I told him lightly.