The life he offered would be a fairy tale to many, but a nightmare to me. A shudder rippled down my spine as I imagined eternity yoked to the cares of the Celestial Kingdom, the weight of the crown growing heavier with each year. The endless struggle for favor and power, the restless and judgmental stares trained upon me—impatient for the timely emergence of an heir. Would I grow shrewish, trapped in such a life? How long would it take for our love to be tarnished? How long before it turned to resentment, and then … hate?

I pulled away to gaze into his handsome face, those dark eyes so dear to me. Was my heart strong enough to be shattered again? Somehow, I managed to speak through the agony that tore me apart. “I can’t marry you. I can’t live here. I would not be happy, and I would make you unhappy too.”

He was silent for a while. “I tell myself that the past no longer matters, that I should not envy the dead. However, seeing you both in Lady Xihe’s grove, seeing how you grieve for him … I cannot help but wonder, would you have chosen him, had he lived?”

I would have thought it impossible before, yet my despair was a rude awakening. I could not deny that my feelings for Wenzhi had gone far deeper than I’d known. I could not deny this pain in my chest when I thought of him, the sharp ache of loss.

“He should not have died, least of all for me,” I said dully.

“I don’t think he would have done it for anyone else.” He studied my face, speaking gently. “Do not blame yourself for his death. Do not cling to misery, pushing everything aside, thinking you don’t deserve happiness. He wanted you to be happy.”

Then he should have lived.

I silenced the impossible, ungrateful thought. As I looked up into Liwei’s face, the ache in my chest swelled. It would have been so easy to ease our suffering with a single word, a touch, a promise. But it would not be right; it would not heal what was broken inside me—if anything ever could. There was no room in my heart for love while it overflowed with grief. Tears clogged my throat, so tight, like it was being squeezed. Spinning around, I strode from the courtyard, not daring to turn—even as my limbs shook, and a chill glazed my skin.

A frightening thing to surrender a future, to plunge alone into the unknown. But this was my life, and I would claim it … the darkness, hurt, and all. Once you had looked death in the face, every moment after was a victory—a new hope, a new beginning. And I was no longer afraid.

Chapter 37