“Bad start?” I repeated disdainfully. “Don’t play word games with me. Don’t try to diminish what you did. And don’t you dare compare us. I did it because I had to, not because I wanted to.”

“As did I.”

“You did it for yourself. Your ambition. To take a crown.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m not one for futile tolerance, to meekly accept my lot. I seek my own opportunities, make my own luck. Why should I let myself and those under my protection suffer when my brother was the heir? Why shouldn’t I reach for more?”

His words mirrored uncomfortably what I had felt before; the ambition burning in me when I had fled to the Celestial Kingdom. Could I truly fault Wenzhi for this? Perhaps I had not suffered as he had—who knows what I might have been driven to do, to keep myself and my loved ones safe. Who knows what darkness might have bloomed in my heart, the honor I might have discarded to survive.

No, I told myself. I had been tempted, I had faced unspeakable danger and yet, I had not lost myself. I was not like him.

“This is not about ambition. I fought for what I wanted, but never intended to hurt anyone. While you—” I could not finish the sentence, choked by the memory of his betrayal.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” His eyes pierced mine, pale ash in the moonlight. “I was mistaken in thinking there was nothing more important than the crown. I know now, there is nothing more important to me than you.”

He spoke with such sincerity, as though he had not lied to me and taken me captive, stolen the dragon pearls, and along with them, my hope of freeing my mother. Not to mention his vicious plan of destroying the Celestial Army. He had let Liwei and me go, but that did not erase what he had done. I could never forget how he had clasped my hands in his and promised me his heart—and how much I had desired it then, ignorant of the treachery that lay within.

I dug my nails into the flesh of my palm. “I do not care. I want nothing from you.” If I was vicious, he had made me so. His was no minor offense that could be swept aside; my nature was neither so magnanimous nor forgiving.

“Then why are you here? Why are you talking to me?” He was relentless. Yet there was a shift in that he did not push forward, merely standing his ground.

“Anger. Curiosity,” I flung back. “Why do you come here? Not just tonight, all the nights before.”

“Need you ask? For a chance to see you.” A harsh breath slid from him. “I regret what I did to you.”

“Easily said when you have accomplished everything you set out to. You are your father’s heir; the kingdom will be yours.”