He cleared his throat. “I believe congratulations are in order. I heard you brought Xiangliu down with two arrows in a single strike.” He sounded pleased. Proud, even.
“Not me, alone. If not for the others, I wouldn’t have made it out alive,” I said with feeling.
The color drained from his face, yet I would not let myself read too much into his concern. “Your Highness, I thank you for your visit, but I wish to rest. Please see yourself out.” I stretched my hand to the doors, tempering my rudeness with a short bow.
He did not rise. He did not speak. Was he offended? The chief attendant would have had an apoplectic fit at my disrespect. But then it struck me, how could he have seen my injuries unless—
“Did you heal me?”
“Yes.” His gaze held mine.
My traitorous mind conjured the image of him sitting on my bed, his hands sliding over my arms as he channeled his energy into them. “I didn’t ask you to. But thank you.”
“There is no need for thanks,” he said. “Have you been well?”
I recalled the countless sleepless nights since I had left him, the grief gnawing at my heart. The tears I had swallowed until they ran dry. These were my secrets, hidden beneath my smile.
“Yes,” I lied baldly. “My training keeps me busy. Captain Wenzhi is a hard taskmaster.”
His jaw tightened as an unfamiliar edge cut through his tone. “Yes, Captain Wenzhi is most solicitous of you. One wonders why he spends so much time and effort on just one recruit?”
I simmered at the insinuation. If he was jealous, he had no right to be. “Why are you here?” I asked again, in a harder voice than before.
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.”