Days passed by, but this time Xiao Zhi had started to get used to the Tughril palace. Her long walk in the city with Kabil the other day had improved her mood.
The palace, once cold and foreign, began to feel a little less hostile. The corridors no longer echoed with whispers when she walked by. The servants, who used to look at her like she didn't belong, now just bowed and went back to work. Even the concubines, once eager to size her up, seemed too distracted with wedding preparations to bother her anymore.
By now, Xiao Zhi had grown used to the endless etiquette lessons as well. Her back no longer ached from hours of forced posture, and she could glide through the greetings and gestures almost without thinking. Lady Sura still found reasons to frown, but even her sharp voice had started to sound like part of the palace routine, a dull, predictable rhythm Xiao Zhi could endure.
And Kabil?
He continued to surprise her.
He was nothing like the stories she remembered from the novel.
The cruel, arrogant prince she had read about should have been impatient, quick-tempered, even dangerous. But the man she saw each day was warm and gentle. He laughed easily, never spoke sharply, and somehow always managed to make her feel at ease.
Sometimes he brought her small gifts. Other times, he visited merely to talk. He asked about her favorite colors, the songs she liked, and her thoughts about the ceremony.
It was… odd.
Each time she saw him, the knot of fear in her chest loosened just a little more.
Perhaps the story she knew, the one filled with cruelty and tragedy, wasn't quite right.
Or perhaps, somehow, this world was slowly rewriting itself.
***
One quiet afternoon, Xiao Zhi sat by her window with a brush in hand. She hesitated for a long while before writing. Each stroke was careful. She still wasn't used to writing with a brush.
Mother,
I have arrived safely in Tughril. The land is vast, the air dry but clean.
The people are kind, and though their ways differ from ours, they have treated me well.
The Grand Prince, my betrothed, is polite and gentle. I was afraid at first, but he has shown me nothing but respect.
Please do not worry.
I am well.
Her brush lingered on the final word.
Well.
She wasn't sure if it was true. But she wanted it to be. Xiao Zhi let out a soft sigh, then signed the letter with Princess Lian Zhi's name.
That evening, she found Ruhan waiting outside the main hall. He stood straight and composed in his plain servant robes.
"Ruhan," she called softly.
He turned immediately, calm, though his eyes softened for a brief moment. He bowed. "Princess."
She hesitated before stepping closer, holding out the folded letter. "I've written to my mother. Could you help me send it to Hua?"
He took it gently, their fingers brushing for the briefest moment. A faint tremor ran through her chest. "Of course."
"Thank you. I trust you with it."
Ruhan lowered his gaze and bowed.
They stood there for an awkward moment. Xiao Zhi wanted to look away, but she couldn't. It felt like they were both waiting for the other person to say what they were really thinking.
Xiao Zhi opened her mouth, unsure what she even meant to say, just as Ruhan drew a quiet breath to speak.
"Have you been well?" they asked almost in unison.
A startled silence followed, then a small, helpless smile tugged at both of their lips.
"I have," Xiao Zhi said softly. "I'm just… trying to get used to everything."
Ruhan gave a small nod. "I completely understand. The palace can be... overwhelming at first."
"It definitely is," she replied with a lighthearted tone.
Ruhan seemed to want to say something more, something that could close the space between them. He hesitated at first and said, "If you ever need anything, Princess… let me know."
"I will," she said quietly.
For a few seconds longer, neither of them moved, as though parting might break something fragile between them. Then, at last, Xiao Zhi turned away.
Ruhan watched her until the last trace of her figure disappeared beyond the hallway. Only when the silence returned did he look down at the letter in his hands.
***
That night, Ruhan sat alone in his chamber behind the Khan's private hall.
The letter lay before him. He stared at the sheet as if touching it would burn his hand. After a long sigh, he finally reached for it, turning it slowly between his fingers. His thumb brushed over the edge of the envelope, tracing the creases she had so carefully folded.
For a long time, he simply held it in silence. Then, with quiet care, he opened the letter.
He read each line slowly. He could see where she had pressed too hard with the brush or where the ink had smudged. It looked like she had tried very hard to be neat. It made him want to smile.
The words were gentle, proper, filled with hope. The kind of letter a dutiful daughter would send home. When he reached the final words, he let out a quiet breath and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile. It was small, almost sad.
He folded the letter again, straightening the edges with care, putting it back into the envelope, and placing it in the drawer. For a moment, his hand lingered on the drawer handle before he locked it.
The room fell silent again.
He leaned back in his chair, watching the moonlight filter through the window screen. He looked out at the moon from his seat. Everything felt quiet for now, but in this palace, silence was usually a warning.
He looked at the drawer where he had hidden her letter. He thought about her words, how she had insisted she was "well." He wanted it to be true, but he knew the palace wouldn't let her stay that way for long.