How strange it was to be stirred by her, this unfamiliar pity unfurling in my chest. The Celestial Empress had threatened my mother, forced my flight from home, scorned and schemed against me at every opportunity. She had driven Liwei and me apart. She would have sent me to my death without a second’s hesitation. I had feared her, resented and despised her, even. And yet, she was Liwei’s mother and she had loved him too. Now that she was dead, all that had been wrong between us seemed of less consequence, like chasing shadows through the night. I could never have loved her, but neither could I find it in me to hate her still, no matter what she had done.

Beside me, Liwei shifted. He sat straight with his shoulders thrown back, his head held high before the endless stream of mourners who came to pay their final respects to the empress. His mother would have been proud of him, not a flicker of weakness did he show.

I reached out, wanting to comfort him—but with the weight of all the eyes upon us, I drew back. It was not my vow to his mother that restrained me, for it had been voided the day she attacked me. There was something else … this ceaseless pain in my chest, since that day of loss on the moon.

The Celestial Emperor was present, for once without his crown. A pure white band of mourning was tied around his brow, the same one Liwei wore, the long ends grazing his back. It was the first time I had seen the emperor since his ill-fated birthday celebration. Before, I had marveled at the agelessness of his face, and now it was lined in sorrow, his body stooped like something vital had been lost. Strange that his wife’s death should affect him so, when he never seemed to have much affection for her before. Perhaps we only valued something once it had gone. I buried the thought, a pang striking me deep.

The emperor and Liwei rose to their feet, approaching the dais with measured steps. Behind them, followed Zhiyi, Liwei’s half-sister. Funerals were a family matter, bringing together even those estranged. They knelt before the coffin, pressing their palms and forehead to the ground—once, twice, and thrice. A final obeisance to the empress. When Liwei rose, he raised his hands, his power sheathing the coffin in light. It floated into the sky, toward where the spirits of deceased Celestials lay, in the restored Divine Harmony Sky. As my gaze followed the coffin, a stream of glittering sparks burst forth, forming the shape of a fiery phoenix that soared alongside it into the heavens.