For a time, they stood in silence, the wind lifting their robes. Then she asked, "And you, Golden Heir? Do you not feel the chains of destiny? Everyone watches you, whispers about you. Do you not want to cast it aside and laugh for a while?"
"The sea does not cast aside rivers. It swallows them. Whether calm or storm, it does not pause to laugh."
Lan Xiang tilted her head, studying him as though he were a puzzle. "You speak like an elder, yet you're younger than me. Or perhaps older, I cannot tell. You are… strange."
"Strange enough," Kent said, "to gather ten thousand silkworm pupae in one night."
That drew the first genuine laugh from her. It rang bright in the quiet air, startling a few disciples passing by. "So you did it yourself. I suspected as much."
They began to walk together down the steps, their pace unhurried. The academy sprawled before them—disciples training on terraces, beasts soaring overhead, mountains glowing with power.
