After an intense half-minute kiss, they broke free of one another.
"I'm fine," Qin Wei then said, "Better than fine, actually. Stronger. Clearer. And… I'm sorry. Because of me, you lost something incredibly precious. I never meant to steal your sword."
Thea shook her head at once, strands of hair brushing his cheek.
"Actually," she said, voice softening, "the sword wasn't mine. It was my father's. He only lent it to me for the night."
Qin Wei froze.
"Eh?"
He pulled back far enough to stare at her, horror creeping in behind the relief.
"Your father's…?" His voice cracked on the word. "Thea, is he angry? I didn't mean—I didn't even know—"
She cut him off with a small, tired smile.
"No. If anything… he was happy. Almost proud. He said it proved how great your potential is—that the sword chose you over him."
Qin Wei exhaled shakily, relief warring with fresh guilt.
Then another thought struck him like cold water.
"Luna," he said sharply. "How is she?"
