“And what about my grandparents? Will they understand?”

“They understand love.”

I surprised myself, and I think my mother too, when I turned towards her and buried my damp face in the skirt of her dress as if I was still a little child.

*

I didn’t catch up with Xiayin on the road.

But when I was jogging up to the palace wall, my legs sore after days of travelling, I heard shouting from within, and a column of fire rushed up into the sky, like a lightning bolt in reverse.

I was gaping at the smoking clouds above when someone crashed into me.

“Jingzhi!”

“Xiayin!”

Locks of her hair had come unpinned and sprang loose around her reddened face; she was dressed in her best gown of creamy, peach-coloured silk. She pushed at my shoulders and I couldn’t decide whether she looked frantic or exhilarated.

“What’s going on?”

“Hurry, we need to get as far away from the palace as possible.” She grabbed my hand and together we ran, even if I didn’t understand what was happening. I just knew my hand was in hers, and she was beautiful, and yes, that was exhilaration on her face, with a sheen more vibrant than her gown.

“Come on, Xiayin, tell me!”

“Um. Well. My – your – our phoenix got a bit aggressive, so I’m just trying to get us away before we’re arrested for a crime against the Crown…”

“What?” I pulled her to a standstill. “What do you mean, ‘a bit aggressive’?”

“I don’t know! I think she was trying to fight the Emperor’s dragon? Things got extremely confusing very quickly.”

“And you’ve abandoned Chilli Oil in there? She can’t fight a dragon! She’s the size of a swan!”

A roar rumbled the ground beneath us. We turned back to look at the palace; people were spilling from the gates, fleeing in every direction. But high up in the sky, two phoenixes were dancing together. I knew one was Chilli Oil by her colour; the other was darker in shade, more russet than red. They wheeled in a sleek, joyful circle. A dragonless marriage motif.

Tears prickled at my eyes. The dragon and the phoenix were just one symbol of a happy marriage. I realized then there could be so many more. An infinite variety of them, as manifold as human hearts. It was just possible that the patterns of our affections and identities were as innumerable as the stars.

“See, she can take care of herself,” Xiayin said. “And she doesn’t want me to marry the Emperor any more than you do, clearly.”

I laughed and looked down at her hand grasping mine. Her thumb smoothed over the bones of my knuckles, and my breath caught in my throat.

“Xiayin…”

“Jingzhi…” Her eyes were phoenix-bright when I looked up. “I can’t believe we had to come all this way for me to kiss you when we could have done this at home.”

“Kiss me?” I echoed.