Xiao Zhi moved through the palace like a ghost. She rose when she was told and ate what was put in front of her, although she barely taste the food. Her body followed the routine like a machine, but her mind was hollow.
The palace blurred around her. Servants passing, doors opening and closing, voices murmuring, none of it seemed to reach her.
She tried to work, looking for something that grounded her. Her hands reached for folded linens, for baskets, for the small, dreadful tasks that could make her feel physical pain again. Because her heart couldn't take anymore cut.
But the maids stopped her.
"Princess Consort, you can't," one of them said gently, stepping in front of her. The usual snarky remarks were gone, replaced by a look of worry and care.
Xiao Zhi frowned faintly. "I can," she replied. "I always do."
The maid hesitated, then lowered her gaze. "We've been ordered not to let you."
"Ordered?"
"By the Khan."
Hearing the name took any last string of hope from her. She let out a long, hollow sigh and stayed still as the maid took the basket from her hands.
Her hands felt heavy and useless, like they didn't belong to her anymore. She needed the work. She needed a distraction from the weight crushing her soul. The maids remained firm, stared at her with something that almost look like pity. They knew better than to disobey the Khan, no matter how heartbreaking the princess look.
Without thinking, she wandered the palace corridors and found herself near the Khan's quarters.
Her heart gave a painful stutter. It was foolish. She knew what she saw and what people were saying. But a tiny, desperate part of her hoped that if she turned the corner, Ruhan would be there.
Maybe the events of the past days were just a dream, a nightmare. Maybe Ruhan would be standing just outside the doors, arms folded, wearing that familiar expression of gentle concern. Or that cunning smirk. She would take his cunning smirk any day now.
Or maybe he would tell her he had been busy, that he had been sent away. That he had avoided her again for some reason she didn't understand.
She spotted Arkan first.
He stood where he always did, composed with the attention of a soldier. His posture was unchanged by grief or rumor. When he noticed her approaching, something flickered briefly across his expression. Hesitation, or perhaps, pity.
Xiao Zhi stopped in front of him.
"Arkan," she said. Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
He inclined his head. "Princess Consort."
She stared at him, her hands twisting slowly in her sleeves. "Where is Ruhan?"
Arkan did not answer. His eyes refusing to look at her.
"He… he was hurt," she said, her voice painfully small. "After that night. I wanted to check on him."
Arkan remained still.
"He's probably on an errand, right?" she continued, desperation creeping into her voice. "Or… or he went home. Family matters. That's what you told me before."
She looked at him intently now, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Tell me that again."
Arkan's jaw tightened.
"Please," Xiao Zhi whispered. She stepped closer, her hands reaching out to clutch his sleeve. "Just tell me he's avoiding me. Tell me he's busy. Tell me he's alive."
Her voice broke.
"Tell me the lie you've always told me before."
Arkan said nothing. His silence was louder than any confirmation.
Xiao Zhi shook her head slowly, as if refusing to accept it. "No," she said. "You can't—please. Just once more. You've lied to me before. Do it again."
"Princess…"
She dropped to her knees without realizing it, her grip tightening on his robes. "I'll believe it. I swear I will. I won't bother him anymore. I won't ask questions. Just... just tell me."
Her hands slipped from his robes as her strength finally gave out. She collapsed onto the stone floor, curling in on herself as the weight of it all came crashing down.
Arkan lunged forward and caught her before she hit the ground.
***
From the shadowed window of his chamber, Lin Rui watched. Every second carved deeper into him than he had anticipated. He saw her begging, tugging at Arkan's sleeves. He saw the way Arkan stiffened, torn between duty and humanity.
He saw her fall.
He did not think. His body moved before his mind.
Lin Rui left his room and crossed the distance quickly.
Arkan was bending down to lift her when Lin Rui reached them. Without a word, he stooped and gathered Lian Zhi into his arms.
Arkan froze. "Your Majesty—"
"I've got her," Lin Rui said.
"You can't be seen like this," Arkan protested quietly. "Carrying her—"
"I don't care."
Lin Rui turned and walked away, Lian Zhi limp against his chest, her face pale and streaked with tears. She no longer had the strength to cry.
He carried her back to her quarters himself. Arkan followed behind him, making sure there were no unwanted whispers.
The maids stared, stunned, but none dared speak. Lin Rui laid Lian Zhi gently on the bed, arranging her as carefully as though she might break if he moved too quickly.
"Summon the doctor," he ordered.
Arkan bowed and left immediately.
The doctor arrived soon after, examined her thoroughly, checked her pulse, her breathing, and her pupils. When he straightened, his expression was solemn but calm.
"She is physically fine," he said. "Her condition is… emotional exhaustion. Shock. Excessive grief."
Lin Rui nodded.
"She needs rest," the doctor continued. "And quiet."
When the doctor left, silence filled the room again.
Arkan lingered.
"Your Majesty," he said slowly, "you have always been precise. Strategic. Your every move is calculated." He hesitated, then continued. "But this time… are you certain this is the right move?"
Lin Rui closed his eyes briefly beneath the mask.
He did not answer immediately. When he did, his voice was controlled. "I'll leave her in your care."
Arkan watched him carefully. There was something different now, something strained beneath the composure.
"As you command," Arkan said softly.
Lin Rui turned and left without another word.
Outside the room, Arkan paused and instructed the waiting maids, "Take care of Princess Lian Zhi. By order of the Khan."
They bowed immediately.
Behind the closed door, Princess Lian Zhi slept peacefully, unaware of how close the man she mourned had come to breaking.
And Lin Rui walked away, telling himself, again and again, that this was necessary. That this was correct. That grief, too, would eventually pass.
Even if he no longer believed it himself.