As for Ruhan, he had finally returned to his quarters.
The walk from the hot spring felt longer than it should have been. It was meant to be only a handful of corridors separating the baths from his door, a distance he had crossed countless times before without thought. Tonight, each step felt endless.
Water still clung to his skin, his tunic damp and heavy against his body, strands of wet hair brushing his cheeks and neck. He welcomed the cold air as he moved through the corridors. It bit as it entered his lungs, but it helped him breathe again.
It did nothing to quiet his mind.
Unlike Xiao Zhi, whose mind swirled with giddy excitement and disbelief over the kiss. Reliving the warmth, the closeness, the thrill of a forbidden moment. Ruhan's emotions were a tangled mix of restraint, regret, and something darker.
All because of a fleeting kiss.
He closed the door behind him and stood for a long, silent moment. The sound of the click sealed him away, yet he felt anything but secure. No matter how tightly he clenched his fists, how firmly he pressed his back against the door, the memory followed him naturally, vivid and unrelenting.
Her sharp intake of breath.
The brief tension in her body before she went still.
The memory of a moment he should not have allowed.
He had hesitated. He had meant to step back. Every instinct screamed that it shouldn't have happened. It was forbidden. Every rule he had lived by, every precaution he had painstakingly maintained for weeks, demanded distance.
Yet he hadn't moved away.
Worse, he had leaned in.
He had allowed the moment to exist.
He dragged a hand through his damp hair and exhaled slowly. Guilt settled heavily in his chest. He should not have stayed in the spring. He should not have lingered beside her. He should not have allowed his control to slip, not even for a breath.
But it had.
The worst part was how natural it had felt. How dangerously, horribly natural it had felt. And how much he had enjoyed it.
That was what terrified him most.
He crossed the room and stopped by his desk. Candlelight flickered faintly, illuminating stacks of documents he had used to keep his thoughts occupied for weeks. Reports, maps, strategies. None of them had succeeded in driving her from his mind.
His gaze drifted downward.
Slowly, almost against his will, he reached for the lower drawer and pulled it open.
Inside lay two folded letters.
Unsent.
His fingers hovered above the parchment but did not touch it. He already knew every word. Every word of trust that he had broken.
He clenched his fists, knuckles whitening, and began to pace. Each step echoed sharply against the floor, grounding him in the present. This was a mistake. He knew it. And mistakes like this carried consequences. A consequence he could not afford.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Your Majesty," Arkan entered the room and bowed slightly. "I'm back."
"That was fast." Ruhan turned slightly, keeping his expression composed. But inside him, he could barely think past the memory.
Arkan began his report. He spoke about merchants along the western border, suspicious movements by the chancellors and the Hua general, and rumors of smuggled weapons.
The words passed through Ruhan without leaving any mark. He nodded when expected, muttered responses, but his mind was elsewhere.
Arkan paused, frowning. "Your Majesty, you're distracted." He said, as if stating the obvious.
"I am not." The denial came too quickly. He immediately regretted the sound of his own voice
"The Chancellor's people are moving again," Arkan stepped closer. "What are we going to do?"
Ruhan's gaze drifted to the floor. "About what?" he asked softly, realizing he hadn't retained a single word of the intelligence.
Arkan's eyes narrowed. "The weapons. The Hua army. The western merchants."
Ruhan barely registered the words. Her face replaced them, and he felt a familiar ache in his chest. The warmth of the spring, the gentle way she had allowed him to stay, the trust in her eyes…it was unbearable.
Arkan exhaled and placed the documents on the table. "You're not listening."
"I am,"
The lie sounded thin even to him.
"You've completely lost focus," Arkan shook his head. "At a time like this."
Ruhan leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes briefly. Duty pressed down on him as it always had. Strategy, vigilance, survival. But now it was tangled with something far more dangerous. Desire. Guilt. Fear. And the quiet knowledge that he had crossed a line he could not uncross.
Arkan watched him, then tried to pull him out of it.
"Your Majesty,"
It didn't work.
"Kazrail."
That did it.
Arkan never used his name unless he meant it. Not as a subordinate to his master, not as a warrior to his ruler, but as a brother to a brother who had clearly lost his mind.
"I'm listening," Ruhan snapped.
"Then what's the plan?" Arkan asked. "We need something solid if we're going to survive whatever the Chancellor is preparing."
Ruhan exhaled. "I'll think about it."
But it's obvious to Arkan that his mind was still somewhere else.
Arkan studied him for a moment longer. He didn't ask again. He knew better. Whatever the cause, he understood enough to step away.
Only one thing, or rather one person, could unsettle the Great Khan like this.
Ruhan didn't even notice when Arkan left the room. He stared at the ceiling, the kiss replaying endlessly. Not comforting, not sweet. It was heavy with consequence.
He should have kept his distance. He should have remained nothing more than a shadow.
But he hadn't.
And now… There was no denying it.
He had fallen for her.
For the girl who had, without knowing it, claimed a place in his heart.
For the princess whose suffering he already knew by heart.
For the person whose fate he had written with his own hands.
For a character in his own story.