The ceremony ended.
The palace celebrated.
—
But Xueying—
Did not.
—
She stood alone in the corridor, her thoughts louder than the noise around her.
—
"Regret it already?"
She turned.
—
Yichen.
—
"…No," she said.
Then—
"…Maybe."
—
He stepped closer.
"You can still speak to the king."
"It won't change anything."
—
Silence.
—
"You didn't want this?" he asked.
—
Xueying hesitated.
Then—
"I don't know what I wanted."
—
Her voice softened slightly.
—
"But I know what this means."
—
"And what is that?" he asked.
—
She looked at him.
—
"It means I'm no longer just fighting for myself."
—
A pause.
—
"It means I can lose something now."
—
The words hung in the air.
—
Yichen's expression shifted slightly.
—
"You won't lose," he said.
—
"You don't know that."
—
"I do."
—
His tone was firm.
Unshaken.
—
"Because I won't let it happen."
—
Xueying let out a quiet breath.
—
"You say that like you control everything."
—
"No," he said.
—
"…Just the things that matter."
—
Silence.
—
Then—
Slowly—
He reached for her hand.
—
This time—
She didn't hesitate.
—
Her fingers curled slightly in his.
Warm.
Real.
—
Dangerous.
—
Because this—
This wasn't just protection anymore.
—
It was something deeper.
—
And that made it fragile.
—
From the shadows—
Zhao Meilin watched.
—
Her expression no longer angry.
—
But calm.
Too calm.
—
"…So this is how it is," she murmured.
—
Her lips curved slowly.
—
"Then I'll just take him back."
—