“Jiu’er, Qing’er, she…”

Feng Yan had barely begun to speak when — with a sharp crack — Feng Jiu’er’s hand came down against his face, leaving a blazing five-fingered mark.

No one had anticipated that she would strike so suddenly — perhaps not even Feng Yan himself.

Yet Feng Jiu’er had truly done it, and with no small amount of force.

Feng Yan raised his eyes and looked at Feng Jiu’er, pressing his lips together. Whether what slid down from within his handsome eyes was tears or sweat, no one could say.

“She is dead, is she not?”

Looking upon him — so hollow, so lifeless — Feng Jiu’er almost wished she had hit him harder.

“She is dead. Two lives extinguished in one.” She glared at Feng Yan and said in a cold, even voice:

“Was it not you who caused her death? You knew what Imperial Father would do — do you truly believe you bear no responsibility for this?”

The image of that slight, fragile figure surfaced in her mind, and the tears Feng Jiu’er had been holding back blurred her vision once more.

“You knew he would never let Qing’er go. Why did you not save her?”

“You are the Second Imperial Prince of the Feng clan. If you cannot even protect your own woman, what manner of man are you?”

Qing’er. Of all moments for her to finally learn the girl’s name — it was already too late.

Feng Yan’s long hair lay in wild disarray. Across his entire face, every trace of moisture was either sweat, or blood, or tears, all blended into one.

His lips curved ever so slightly upward, his eyes hollow and void, his smile helpless, grim — and somehow still carrying a quality that looked callously unbothered.

“She injured you. Imperial Father would never have let her go. I wanted to save her — but how?”

Feng Jiu’er swept her gaze across the dead-water stillness of his eyes, clenched her fists, closed her own, and drew a long, slow breath.

Second Imperial Brother still loved Qing’er deeply, did he not? Of course he did — they even had a child together. How could he not?

Her chest was seized by an aching squeeze, and drawing breath itself became difficult. Yet Feng Jiu’er no longer knew what she could do.

“Princess — perhaps we should start by stopping the Second Imperial Prince’s bleeding. He has lost a great deal of blood. If we let this continue, I am afraid—”

Crouching beside Feng Yan and steadying him, Gu Mingcheng broke in to interrupt their exchange.

At his words, Feng Jiu’er jolted back to herself — to Feng Yan’s face, as pale as a sheet of white paper.

“Bring him back to his chambers. Quickly!”

With Jian Yi’s help, Feng Yan was swiftly moved back to his own palace.

Cleaning the wounds, disinfecting, applying medicine, wrapping the bandages — the whole process took well over an hour before Feng Jiu’er had finished tending to his external injuries.

She had Feng Yan lie down on the bed, layered with several thick quilts, and sat at his bedside, inserting acupuncture needles to treat his internal injuries.

“Jiu’er — it is only a minor wound. It is nothing to trouble yourself over.” Looking upon the little girl’s sweat-dampened face, Feng Yan’s voice was rough with hoarseness.

This was the first thing he had said since returning to his chambers.

Jian Yi stepped forward, picked up a cloth, wiped the perspiration from Feng Jiu’er’s temple, and then stood quietly to one side.

Feng Jiu’er’s movements paused only briefly while Feng Yan spoke, then she continued placing the acupuncture needles without a word.

“Were the things Qing’er said true?” She inserted another silver needle, then reached for the next without looking up.

At the mention of Qing’er, Feng Yan’s gaze grew dim once more.

“Are you referring to the matter of the attending consorts?” He drew a slow breath and let his eyes fall closed. “I should have anticipated it — yet I did nothing.”

Feng Jiu’er’s chest tightened; her hands paused again, though she quickly resumed their rhythm.

“Are you saying that Imperial Father truly intends to make you and First Imperial Brother and Third Imperial Brother my attending consorts? Is that real?”

“It is.” Feng Yan inclined his head and looked at Feng Jiu’er. “For the rest of our lives, we will remain at your side.”

“You are all my Imperial Brothers! I have no need of you standing guard over me in such a manner!” Feng Jiu’er had no patience whatsoever for any of this.

Her princess’s chambers already had, besides her Ninth Imperial Uncle, Mu Mu, and Jian Yi, seven attending consorts of their own.

And now even her own Imperial Brothers were to be added to their number — what use did she have for so many men?

She was not a sovereign — and even if she were, she had no desire for a three-thousand-strong rear palace. She did not want it.

What she wanted was one life, one heart, one pair of hands to hold through all of it — yet in this imperial palace, could she truly have that?

“Jiu’er, all three of us were taken in by Imperial Father. We are not your blood brothers.” Feng Yan’s hoarse voice rose again.

“Imperial Father has decreed that from this point on, we are to be your attending consorts — for the rest of our lives, devoted to you alone, with no other allegiances permitted.”

The needle in her hand nearly slipped off course.

Feng Jiu’er drew a deep breath, steadied her focus, and pressed on with the acupuncture.

Once every acupoint that required a needle had one placed, Feng Jiu’er withdrew her gaze and drew out a small tin of medicinal oil.

“Jiu’er, are you still angry with Second Imperial Brother?” Feng Yan reached out his large hand and closed it around Feng Jiu’er’s slender arm.

“I had no idea Imperial Father would make such an arrangement. That is why things with Qing’er went so far — Jiu’er, I am sorry.”

“The one you owe an apology to is Qing’er, not me.” Feng Jiu’er shot the man on the bed a look, then poured a small amount of oil into her palm.

“And as for the matter of you, First Imperial Brother, and Third Imperial Brother becoming attending consorts — I will speak with Imperial Father about this myself.”

“But I must say this to you plainly: if you do not have the strength to protect a woman, you have no right to love her. You have no right.”

“In the end, it was you who caused Qing’er’s death, was it not?”

Feng Jiu’er began applying the medicinal oil to Feng Yan’s wounds, her expression calm and removed, as though the injured person before her were no more than a stranger.

Perhaps, for the rest of her life, she would never forget the dead, empty look in Qing’er’s eyes.

In Qing’er’s death — Imperial Father bore guilt. Second Imperial Brother bore guilt. And in truth — so did she.

For the next half hour, Feng Jiu’er did not say another word.

The bedchamber was silent to the degree that even a silver needle dropping to the floor might have been heard — a stillness as deep as death.

Gathering the silver needles, setting them aside with care, Feng Jiu’er rose from the bedside, her expression weighed down.

Whether it was her heart that ached, or her body, she could not tell — but her footing faltered, and she swayed.

“Jiu’er.” Feng Yan made to rise and catch her.

Jian Yi was faster. With a single long stride he was at Feng Jiu’er’s side, steadying her.

“Are you — are you all right?” Jian Yi’s well-shaped brows drew together, and he barely resisted the impulse to simply carry her back and make her rest properly.

Regrettably, if this girl were ever so biddable, there would be no unbiddable person left in all the world.

Feng Jiu’er pressed her hand to her forehead and pushed Jian Yi’s large hand away.

“Let us go. Back to the Princess’s chambers.”

Jian Yi let her go without argument, and fell into step behind her.

“Jiu’er.” Feng Yan propped himself up on one arm, looking at the figure turning to leave.

Feng Jiu’er paid him no heed. She left without a single word.

Feng Yan closed his eyes and sank back against the bed.

Outside the palace chambers, Feng Jiu’er stopped and raised her eyes to the grey, dim expanse of the sky. She breathed in slowly, then let it out in a long, quiet exhale.

It took a long stretch of time — every effort directed toward pressing the tears back from her eyes — before she finally lowered her gaze.

“Let us go. I want to return and check on my Ninth Imperial Uncle. He should have woken by now.”

With those words left behind, Feng Jiu’er stepped forward.

Jian Yi kept his gaze fixed on the girl walking ahead of him, at a loss for how to offer any comfort.

In the end he said nothing at all, only fell into step behind her — as he always had — standing guard at her side.