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As our cloud halted, I looked up, all thought driven from my mind. Stars glittered before us, spanning the breadth of the sky, as dazzling as moonlit frost.

“Liwei, where are we?” My breath misted the cool air.

“The Silver River.”

“Are those the stars that parted the Weaving Goddess from her mortal husband?” It was a renowned legend of the Mortal Realm.

He nodded. “Such a union goes against the laws of our realm. It was said the goddess fled to the world below, until she was ordered to return to the skies. Her husband braved great peril to follow her and after much suffering, they were finally allowed to reunite for a single day each year. The seventh day of the seventh lunar month, that the mortals celebrate as the Qixi Festival.”

In the past, I had been entranced by the romance and ethereal beauty of this myth. But after having suffered heartache of my own, my pity was roused. I could not help thinking of my parents and the similarities in their tale. Perhaps all such unions were doomed to tragedy, for what future could a mortal and immortal have when death divided them?

“Why do you look so sad, Xingyin?” Liwei leaned closer until his head grazed mine. “It’s just a story.”

Yet the mortals believed my father’s tale a myth, as they did that of my mother’s ascension to immortality. Perhaps the legends that touched us deepest were those spun from a wisp of truth.

“Is it true?” I wished it was not, that no one had to suffer so—their hearts locked in yearning, forever enmeshed in despair.

He was quiet for a moment. “Perhaps, a long time ago? This place is deserted now; there is no one here, but us.”

“Can any love be worth such misery? One night for a year of pain.”

His hand clasped mine, his grip firm and strong. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On the night,” he said softly. “On what they were waiting for.”

Our shoulders brushed as we stood side by side, staring into the sea of infinite light. Silk rustled as he reached into his sleeve and drew out a hairpin, lacquered in all the hues of heaven, studded with clear stones. The one he had crafted for me, the one I had returned to him after his betrothal to another. My gaze lifted to his dark eyes, a warmth blooming through my body.

“When I gave you this before, I pretended it was a gift in exchange for yours. I was a coward for not saying what was in my heart then. When we parted the first time, I regretted that so much was left unsaid between us and I feared never to have the chance again.” His voice shook with emotion. “If you would have me, I would pledge myself to you—for now, forever.”

Hope blazed through me, only shadowed by the remembrance of how we had trodden this path before and the hurt that trailed in our wake. Our families. His kingdom. My cautious heart. Such were the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that lay between us. There would be no exchange of betrothal gifts between our families, no joyous coming together of two households. The last time I had seen the Celestial Emperor, he tried to kill me. The scars across my chest itched at the remembrance of the writhing agony, clinging to my flesh like a web of pain. More than that, how could I leave my mother alone, once more, mired in grief for my father’s death?

In the silence, Liwei stiffened, drawing away. “I thought you wanted this too. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

He sounded formal, withdrawn—and I hated it. I clasped his hand, threading my fingers through his. “I do. I just need time. Your parents detest me, I can’t leave my mother yet. And—”

My words faded, leaving unspoken a new fear which had sprouted in that very moment. For if I married Liwei, I would have to live forever in the Jade Palace shrouded in silk, shackled in gold, and bound by ceremony. While Liwei was not his father, nor was I his mother—we would be fettered by the same gilded tethers. I was not one to be caged. This year of freedom had awakened me to the possibilities of a life away from the confines of the Celestial Kingdom. It might seem a fantasy to many, marrying the prince of the realm and living in a palace among the clouds. Yet with a mother-in-law who despised me and a father-in-law who had tried to end my life, it was more a nightmare than a dream.

Liwei smiled as he slid the pin through my hair until it was nestled tight. “I will wait. It is enough for me that you feel the same way, but I will tell my parents of my intentions.”

“You will?” My words rang with disbelief.

“The last thing I want is another unexpected betrothal.”

The thought needled me, followed by a stab of anxiety. “What will they do?”

“My mother will rage. My father … I am beyond the age he can discipline me as he used to. I will be a disappointment to him as I have been most of my life. I never did learn my lessons to his satisfaction.”

I was glad he had not, even as my insides clenched at his words. I had felt the force of the emperor’s displeasure; I had seen how he struck Liwei down without hesitation. At that moment, I loathed the Celestial Empress a little less, relieved that Liwei had one parent who cared for him, who had tried to help him in her own way.

“It does not matter, as long as we are together,” he said.

As he drew me to him, his eyes darkened with an intent that stirred my blood. No, I would not let doubt taint this moment; such joy was both precious and scarce. I leaned against him, inhaling his clean scent. It had been a long time since he held me so. As his other hand slid around the curve of my waist, fire surged through my veins, a sudden hunger consuming me as my arms wound around his neck to pull him closer. His lips found mine—firm and tender, soft yet relentless. How I had missed this sweetness, this tantalizing sensation of our bodies pressed together. His hold around me tightened as we fell, as one, onto the billowing folds of the cloud, its coolness a balm to my heated skin.

Closing my eyes, I drifted away upon a tide of dreams, glittering as brightly as this river of stars.

A ringing through my mind yanked me from the embrace of slumber. Someone had come through the wards. My eyes flew open as I probed the intruder’s energy. Familiar to me, yet fury flared hot and bright.