My father’s cough rang through my mind, his crimson blood staining the cloth. Time was something I did not have. “He is ill. He needs the elixir.”

“My father will not yield it, neither to you nor me,” Liwei said heavily. “We have few allies left in the Jade Palace, and we cannot act rashly. Don’t risk yourself until you know for sure.”

My lips formed a smile as I nodded in seeming assent, despising myself for the trickery. Liwei did not believe the mortal was my father—I could not blame him for the dragon had told us he was dead, and it was impossible to explain the certainty of a feeling only I sensed. I could not ask more from Liwei, nor could I add to his concerns or pit him further against his family. And the greatest reason I held my tongue—one I shied from myself—was the worry that he would object to my plan, that he would try to dissuade me … and that I would proceed regardless.

He was right; the emperor would never give me the elixir, which was why I would take it from him. And if I failed, it was safer for my loved ones if they did not know, for I was certain the Celestial Emperor had his ways of extracting the truth.

“Have you decided what you will do?” I asked him, shifting the conversation to safer ground. “I met the Keeper by chance in the Mortal Realm. He said there are many at court who would support you, should you return.”

“I have no plans to return. Not yet.”

I breathed easier, though there was little joy in that which caused him pain. “I know your family is precious to you; I never wanted to make you choose.” I paused, asking, “Do you regret it?”

“No. This time there is no threat to the kingdom, no pressing alliance to secure. This time … you will not be rid of me so easily.” His eyes darkened. “Though I wish I had not parted with my parents on such terms, to have disappointed them.”

Your father disappointed you, I wanted to tell him. Liwei need not have been forced into a choice where all would undoubtedly lose.

“I meant what I said to you those years before, in the market.” There was a wistful note in his voice.

The stalls in the clearing. The woody fragrance of tea winding through the air. A white shell nestled in my palm. His words drifted back to me as though it were yesterday: We could travel the realm, stopping where we choose and leaving when we grow restless.

“It would be a good life.” I repeated what I had said then.

“As long as we’re together.” His dark gaze held mine, my heart quickening. “Though I fear for myself sometimes, wanting to bind myself to one as fierce as you.”