Page 57

Prince Yanming’s shoulders drooped, but he took her outstretched hand. “Will you come again tomorrow?” he asked me.

Something bloomed inside me at the hope in his voice. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

The sky had darkened to twilight by the time we returned to the shore. Instead of joining Captain Wenzhi in his tent, I ate with the other soldiers. For some reason I did not want to be in his company tonight.

I was on edge, wound tight. After the meal I paced along the beach, climbing upon a large rock. It soothed my restlessness to watch the waves hurling themselves against the shore in reckless abandon. The rough stone pressed against my back as I lay down, staring at the sky. When the moon shone as brightly as it did tonight, I knew my mother had lit the thousand lanterns and the perpetual ache in my heart eased a little. As I imagined her arms around me, her cool cheek against mine—a smile spread across my lips.

Footsteps approached, almost drowned by the crashing waves.

“You like to stare at the moon,” Captain Wenzhi said, from behind me.

“It’s a better view than some.” I did not bother to rise. It was rude of me, but I was in no mood for courtesy.

As he climbed up to join me, I jerked up onto my elbows, glaring at him. “Will you leave?” I fought to keep my voice steady.

“No.”

“Then I will.” I pressed my palms against the rock to slide down, but he covered my hand with his. His grip was as unyielding as the stone beneath my skin.

“Why are you angry?” He sounded confused.

I snatched my hand away, wrapping my arms around my knees. In truth, I did not know the cause of this gnawing sensation whenever I looked at him.

“Was it because I suggested you dress as Lady Anmei?” he probed.

The memory of his careless words stung. “You had no concern for me when you said that.”

His brow creased in surprise. “Are you afraid?” he asked, misunderstanding my meaning. “You can take care of the young prince and yourself, even without weapons and magic. And if I had no concern for you, would I stand guard with you?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then what is the reason for your ill humor?” His voice was as soft as the evening breeze.

“I know you admire Lady Anmei and that I’m not as beautiful or elegant as her. But . . . it was not pleasant to hear it said aloud.” Heat crept up my neck at the recollection.

“Admire her? If I was attentive to her it was only because it seemed to annoy you.” He grinned wryly, before turning serious once more. “Why would you want to look like her? Why would a falcon want to be a nightingale?”

My pulse quickened. I did not know why, except I was suddenly unsure of myself. Eager to leave and yet . . . wanting to stay. “Captain Wenzhi—”

“Just, Wenzhi.” His gaze held mine.

Somehow, I knew it was a moment of great import to him, a mark of trust that he did not easily relinquish.

My cowardly desire to leave vanished. I called Shuxiao by her name, but we were close friends. Peers. I had only ever addressed him as “Captain Wenzhi,” as he called me “Archer Xingyin”—any other form of address here would have been unthinkable. We had teased, needled, and even argued outright with each another, but this would be crossing into unfamiliar terrain, sweeping away yet another barrier between us. One, I found, I was glad to do without.

“Wenzhi,” I repeated slowly, unused to his name without his title.

A smile appeared on his lips, barely perceptible in the dark.

The last of my discomfort vanished, replaced by a warm flutter. I did not speak again and neither did he. Together, we lay on the rock in companionable silence, the waves rushing to shore the only sound in the night.

The moon rose higher. Its glow glinted on the water, the fragments of a thousand silver shards reflected on its surface. The breeze cooled my skin as the warmth in my chest spread to my veins, as though I was drunk on wine.

20

The next few days flew by, riddled with anxiety—and yet, they were happy ones, too. I taught Prince Yanming to hold a sword and let him trounce me each time we sparred. He showed me how to fold paper animals, and we sang silly songs that we made up together. When he discovered that I knew just one story of his beloved dragons—he gathered his books and together, we read of how the dragons saved the merfolk from sea monsters, how they purified the waters when a swarm of venomous jellyfish tainted the ocean. It was little wonder their absence had left such a void in the Eastern Sea. And when he flung his arms around my neck, squeezing me with his soft arms, a warmth bloomed inside me. He slipped through the wall around my heart, becoming the childhood companion I never had, the sibling I never knew I wished for.

All too soon, the day of our ruse arrived. I sat in a room with Wenzhi, as two palace attendants fussed over me, assisting with my transformation into Lady Anmei.