When night finally fell, the city had transformed. Everywhere they looked, orange lanterns bobbed in the dark like floating candles, making the whole street look like it was on fire, but in a good way.
Ruhan watched her, the Princess of Hua, standing in the middle of it all. Her head tilted back, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with wonder. She was smiling with a genuine smile. The first time he'd seen her like this since they met.
"It's like a dream," she whispered.
He stepped up beside her and handed her a lantern that he just bought from one of the stalls. The lantern was painted with flowers and Tughril script. She took it with a small, surprised nod, lifting it so the light warmed her face. The glow reflected in her eyes like tiny stars.
Ruhan felt something warm fluttering inside him, and he couldn't look away.
"It suits you." He didn't even realize he was staring at her longer than he should. "You shine more than the festival."
She turned to him, clearly caught off guard by the comment. "You—" But the rest of her words were drowned by the roar of drums and cheers as dancers filled the square.
People spun and clapped around a blazing fire, their robes swirling like ribbons. The rhythm pulled at her, and before he could react, a woman grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the circle.
"Wait, I can't dance!"
Ruhan crossed his arms and watched her stumble, spin, and collapse laughing.
A small laugh escaped him as he savored the way her joy seemed to shine brighter than the lanterns.
She spun back toward him with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. "Don't just stand there like a statue! Come on, dance with me!"
A flash of panic crossed his face. He shook his head and tried to step back. "I don't—"
She didn't even let him finish the sentence. She lunged forward, grabbed his hand, and dragged him right into the middle of the circle. The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping at the two of them.
Their movements were completely uncoordinated. She kept stepping on his toes, and he had no idea what to do with his arms, but they couldn't stop laughing. They were a total disaster, and it was perfect.
The music got louder, drowning out everything else. For a few moments, the desert didn't matter. The bandits didn't matter. Their legs were sore from dancing, but the exhaustion was worth it.
When they weren't dancing or clapping, they sat with the others, drinking wine that smelled of honey and spice. Watching the sky together as the fireworks burst into bright colors over the festival. Every time a new one exploded, the whole crowd cheered.
Ruhan watched as Princess Lian Zhi sipped the wine eagerly, wincing at the burning taste of the spice, but smiling after every gulp.
"This is strong," she said, shaking her head.
Ruhan smirked. "You don't have to drink it all."
"I'm fine," she said, stubbornly pouring herself another cup. "It's a festival! You're supposed to drink!"
She clinked her cup against his, spilling half the wine onto the table, and laughed even harder at her own clumsiness. Soon, she was giggling at everything he said, or didn't say.
Ruhan watched her quietly, and the corners of his mouth turned into a smile. There was something disarming about her laughter. For so long, he'd only seen her tense, tired, or scared. But tonight, under the lantern light, she looked… happy.
The music faded as the night went on. People started to leave, but the wine was still flowing. Lian Zhi leaned forward on the table, her head tilted, and her cheeks had turned very pink. She laughed again at something Ruhan said, though she probably didn't understand it anymore.
"Ruhan…" she murmured, her voice slow and dreamy. "Did anyone ever tell you how handsome you are?"
Ruhan chuckled. "Not from someone this drunk."
"I'm not drunk," she protested, and hiccuped right after. "Maybe just a little." Then she grinned.
"You should stop drinking, Princess."
But she didn't listen. Her gaze drifted dangerously to his lips. "Your lips…" she whispered. "They're so pink. They look so soft…"
Ruhan felt something tighten in his chest, caught off guard by her boldness. "Princess—"
Before he could finish, she reached forward and brushed her fingertips against his mouth. "I wonder…" she mumbled, her words slurring slightly. "How they taste…"
Then, she closed the distance.
For a heartbeat, everything went silent. All the noise from the festival... faded.
Ruhan's eyes widened. He didn't move, didn't pull away.
When she pulled back, breathless, she looked up at him with glassy eyes. "I like it," she whispered, smiling in satisfaction. "Do you like my lips?"
He stared at her for a long moment before a slow smile curved his mouth. "I've tasted your lips before, Princess."
She frowned. "Huh? When?"
He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "You don't remember?" A smirk formed on his mouth.
Her face was just inches from his, close enough that he could feel her breath. For a second, it felt like he was about to kiss her again. And he might. He leaned closer and almost closed the gap between them, but then her head suddenly dropped, and she collapsed against his chest.
Ruhan caught her easily, a small laugh escaping him.
He looked down at her sleeping face, so soft and peaceful compared to the woman who had just been laughing and dancing. He couldn't help but smile as the memory of the desert came back to him.
---
Back in the desert, Princess Lian Zhi had fainted from exhaustion and dehydration. Ruhan had tried to wake her, but she wouldn't stir. Then he heard hooves approaching through the dusty wind. He turned to Duran with a suspicious look.
Bandits again?
But the shadows that emerged wore the same clothing as Duran. Duran's face brightened. "It's our border patrol!"
The soldiers rode closer, greeting them warmly and offering water and transport to their camp near the border city.
Ruhan took the water pouch and drank eagerly, as if his life depended on it. So did Duran. Then Ruhan knelt beside Lian Zhi, trying to feed her water, but her lips stayed closed. The water only dripped down her chin.
He hesitated for a second, then took a mouthful himself. Leaning close, he pressed his lips against hers to pass her the water.
Her lips were dry and cracked, faintly tasting of blood. He told himself it was just to save her life. It was a medical necessity, survival, nothing more. But as his lips pressed against hers, he knew he was lying to himself.
Her breath was warm, and despite the taste of the desert sand, she tasted like something he didn't want to let go of.
---
The memory made him smile. He adjusted the sleeping princess in his arms and carried her back to her room at the inn, holding her carefully, like she was his bride.