My eyes narrowed as I recalled the silver pin, lying in the drawer I had tossed it into. “Why the pin?”

A small smile formed upon his lips. “I thought you might appreciate the memento. You almost ripped my throat out with it.”

“It was a shame I missed.”

“You did not miss. I stopped you.”

“How brave you were, restraining a helpless captive,” I taunted.

“You are anything but helpless.” His smile widened. “Call it self-preservation on my part. I liked my throat where it was, intact.”

As he moved toward me, I unslung my bow. “Another step, and you’ll get that arrow you so richly deserve. Why are you here? You must know I want nothing to do with you.”

He tensed, almost imperceptibly. “To offer my congratulations. When is the wedding?”

“There is no wedding,” I replied unthinkingly, regretting the words once they were out.

Light flared in his eyes, startlingly bright. “Did he not propose or have you not accepted? According to the rumors, few could conceive of you refusing, though nothing would delight me more.”

“I did not refuse.” My tone was sharp, my nerves taut. He had a way of stirring me that I did not like. “I will accept, once we resolve certain matters.”

“Like how you might stop Their Celestial Majesties from trying to murder you, their intended daughter-in-law? Ask yourself, does the present empress appear content with her lot? Or whether you could really be happy, locked in the gilded cage of the Jade Palace for the rest of your days?”

“Fine words from the one who locked me up before.” I infused each word with scorn, concealing how close he had struck to the mark.

A dull flush crept up his neck. “Xingyin, don’t marry him.”

“How dare you,” I seethed. “You are nothing to me, less than nothing after what you did.”

“Could you forgive me?” A strain in his voice, which was usually so steady. “If only we could start over—”

“There is no starting over, it is over, Wenzhi.” Something pulsed through me as I spoke his name. A vestige of the past, something I must learn to quench. “I am happy. You thought you knew me but you did not. You only saw in me what you wanted, a tool you could mold to your liking.”

“As you did in me,” he countered. “Did you ever see the real person behind the Celestial Captain? Did you ever try? Or was I just a stand-in for—”

“Enough.” I raised my voice, careless in my fury. “We were both mistaken in each other, and regardless, ‘we’ are at an end.”

He shook his head. “We had a bad start, you and me. Both of us were liars and frauds, hiding who we really were.”