I glanced up, catching the tautness in his expression. “How did you learn of the attack?” I asked numbly.

“We have our informants at the Celestial Court. Unfortunately, this matter was so closely guarded, I only learned of it after the soldiers had left. I came as soon as I heard.”

“Thank you for your aid.” I spoke formally, listlessly, unable to muster the energy for more.

Kneeling down beside me, Wenzhi laid a hand on my shoulder. I had always thought his touch cool, yet now it burned through my robe. Or perhaps it was because I was frozen all the way inside, nothing but a brittle layer of ice holding me together.

“Cry. Shout. Strike me if you will. Just don’t treat me like a stranger. Don’t pretend to be all right when you are not.”

His blunt compassion was my undoing. My chest caved until I was fighting for breath, my emotions churning within. Strong arms went around my shoulders; my head folded against his steadiness. My hands moved of their own volition, instinctively seeking comfort, my fingers clutching at the lapels of his robe as though I were falling. I did not draw closer, nor did I push him away. How familiar his embrace and the comfort it yielded … and how I craved it in this moment, drowning in this void of despair. A part of me wanted to stay there, locked away from the devastation of my reality—even as my pride urged me to pull away, to protest his touch. And though I despised myself for this weakness, I sensed he understood my pain—and so I remained still until my tension eased, my body going as limp as a vine as the last of my strength dispersed. Ragged breaths and bitter tears spilled from me until somehow, I was no longer stretched to breaking, exhaustion crashing over me as my eyelids sank shut into merciful slumber.

WARMTH GRAZED MY SKIN. My mind stirred from oblivion, but I did not want to awaken. Already, the ache within was returning, relentless and sharp—each breath a strain. A breeze swept against my face then, cool and fresh, stirring something in me … something that was not laden with sorrow, pain, or regret. Fragments of memories, good ones—of my first glimpse of the Eastern Sea and the wonder I had felt then, along with the lightness of hope.

Flicking my eyelids apart, the brightness of day crowded my vision. I blinked, making out my mother staring blankly ahead, Shuxiao sitting beside her. Instinctively, I glanced around to check no one was in pursuit. As I recalled my lapse into a weeping wreck last night, shame coursed through me. How could I have wept in Wenzhi’s arms, the arms of my enemy? A betrayal of Liwei and myself.

Except, Wenzhi was not my enemy. At least, not anymore.

“Where is he?” I asked.