As I dug it from my pouch, he plucked the sphere from my grasp. A relief to yield it to another, even as I resisted the urge to snatch it back. The sight of the feather in Wenzhi’s hand reminded me uncomfortably of the pearls he had once taken. The feather seethed with fire, its barbs quivering like they were alive. As Wenzhi lifted it up to examine it, a streak of flame surged from within, piercing the barrier to strike his shoulder. He did not flinch, his grip tightening around the sphere, light flowing from his fingers to wrap the orb in frost.

My eyes followed the feather in his hand as he sat down beside me. Before I could demand its return, he held it out to me. The orb was cool to my touch as I slipped it back into my pouch, knotting the cords.

“Thank you,” I said stiffly. “For shielding me earlier. For … this.”

“It was the least I could do when you bore the brunt of facing Lady Xihe.” His voice dropped dangerously low. “What did she do to you?”

I did not reply, glancing at his wound from the feather, the skin a mottled red. “Does it hurt?”

A small smile played across his lips. “Are you concerned for me?”

I shrugged, feigning indifference. “No. It would be an inconvenience if you died.”

“An inconvenience,” he repeated slowly. “Such unfeeling words.”

I would not be baited into a reply, turning to stare at the grove. An unearthly radiance emanated from the trees, the mulberries blazing like they were afire. Their light rippled through the night, brushing the sky with crimson and rose. Soon, Lady Xihe and her daughter would be mounting their chariot.

Wenzhi leaned back against a tree, his eyelids drooping shut. He rarely showed signs of discomfort. Had the feather’s power caused some internal injury? The marks across his shoulder were as glossy as melted wax. I frowned, unable to stop myself from reaching out to inspect them. As I halted, wary of causing discomfort—Wenzhi’s palm swept up, pressing my hand to his chest.

Heat flared across my neck. As I snatched my hand away, his gaze searched mine. “What are you afraid of?” he asked.

“Not you.” I lifted my head higher. “Liwei will be back soon. He will heal your wound.”

“I would rather suffer your inept ministrations than those of the most accomplished healer in the realm.”

“I did not offer to tend to you,” I told him tightly.

“Nor will the Celestial Prince, for that matter. He would be glad to prolong my suffering, no doubt. As it would give me great satisfaction to do for him.” A wry smile spread across his lips.

“Liwei would not do that.”

“Of course not.” An edge slid into his tone. “He is the perfect one. The noble one. The one who would never hurt you.”