---
The morning sun pierced through the heavy mist of rain.
Inside the prince's chamber, the warmth of life returned slowly. Shèng Lín blinked first, waking with a heavy gasp—his body stiff and soaked from the floor.
Then he looked up.
Prince Xìn Xuān sat on the edge of the now-cold bathtub, fully awake… and fully back in his own body.
Their eyes met.
No words. Just the raw air of silence and truth hanging between them.
They had returned to themselves.
But something far more important had broken.
The prince stood, his bare feet moving across the marble floor like thunder.
"…We're back," he said flatly, pulling on his robe with clenched fists.
Shèng Lín nodded.
Xìn Xuān walked past him, paused by the door, and without turning, spoke with a voice cold enough to crack bone.
> "Leave before afternoon."
Shèng Lín flinched.
> "Because if I see you after that, I will kill you with my own hands. I hate traitors. And you…"
"…You're the first one I've ever let go."
And with that, the prince was gone.
Shèng Lín was left kneeling on the floor, head bowed—not from fear, but shame.
He didn't defend himself.
He didn't ask for forgiveness.
Because what he broke… he didn't know if it would ever heal.
---
Later that day, Prince Xìn Xuān arrived at Princess Lù Zhāo's palace, dressed immaculately, his hair tied with a sapphire pin.
She greeted him in the rose garden, her heart light—until she saw his face.
Expression unreadable.
Voice emotionless.
> "The marriage ceremony will be held at the end of this week."
Her breath caught.
"…So soon?"
The prince gave a shallow nod.
"I want everything finished. The empire cannot wait."
She lowered her gaze, hiding the pain flooding her chest. She had thought—hoped—there would be a way out. That the rumors of the prince and his knight meant freedom for them both.
Instead, her world was closing again.
> "Is something wrong?" he asked.
She smiled softly. "Not at all, Your Highness."
But her hands were trembling in her sleeves.
---
Later that evening, when she was alone with Shèng Měi, Princess Lù Zhāo finally asked:
"…What happened between your brother and the prince?"
Shèng Měi looked up, startled. "I… don't know. They were close. Then suddenly… everything broke."
Lù Zhāo's heart ached.
She had seen the look in Shèng Lín's eyes. She had seen the way the prince once watched him with something like affection. And now, it was all shattered.
> "Do you think," she whispered, "two people can still love each other, even when they've hurt each other too deeply?"
Shèng Měi's voice was quiet. "I think… love doesn't always save people. Sometimes it just leaves scars."
And for the first time in years, Princess Lù Zhāo let herself cry.
Because the path she hoped would lead to freedom…
Might soon end in a crown she never wanted to wear.
-