Chapter 29 #2
I stared at him, at this crown prince dressed in his fine attire bowing before me. There was no false modesty here, no hint of a performance. All I felt was earnest gratitude toward me, a common priestess in a nation of millions.
If he’d made such an offer seven months ago, I would’ve asked for the world in riches. All I wanted now was a peaceful tomorrow for my family and myself.
“I wish for you to be a good king, Ren,” I said. “Be a king who’ll always listen, who trusts his people, who serves rather than takes. Honor the hope my father left with you.”
He raised his head, his smile tinged with the same remorse that permeated his letters. “I’ll do my best.”
I extended my hand and pulled him up. “Another thing. Stop blaming yourself for my father’s death. He made his choice, and I’m sure he’s pleased by yours.”
Ren nodded, still appearing somewhat resigned. I knew well that guilt wasn’t so easily removed. It’d take time for us both to free ourselves of its dagger and allow the wounds to heal. But I didn’t mind waiting.
Smiling, I touched his cheek and forced him to look at me.
There were so many things I wanted to say to him, so many thoughts and feelings I’d collected over the course of our separation.
But he was crown prince now, and there were some things I could never speak, no matter how close we were.
There were some doors that were best left shut.
“I’m glad you came,” I said. “I’ve missed your company.”
“That’s to be expected,” he teased. “Your life must’ve been so dull without me.”
“Oh yes.” My hand slipped down to rest on his shoulder. “Quite dull, what with a dozen pupils to teach and myriad other responsibilities to fulfill.”
He laughed. “Shall I bow to you again, as a gesture of my utter awe?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll ruin that pretty robe of yours. I’m certainly not contributing my taxes to mend that.”
“I’ve plenty of other robes to replace it.”
I arched a brow. “Are you boasting, Prince Renshu?”
“Never.” He placed his hand over mine, gazing at me with that same gentle reverence from before. “I’ve missed you too, you know. More than I could ever express in a letter.”
My skin tingled like tiny stars where he touched me. I should’ve drawn away, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to move at all.
“Be careful what you say,” I said lightly, concealing the conflict inside me. “You’ll break the hearts of your many admirers.”
He cocked his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “It’s unlike you to be jealous.”
“It’s not that I’m jealous,” I protested with a scowl. “It’s just—you’re crown prince, Ren. You should be considering your … alliances.”
He joined me on the step, narrowing the distance between us. My hand slipped down from his shoulder to his chest—but still, I didn’t move away.
“Alliances?” he echoed. “I’m not interested in any such thing except with a certain priestess of this monastery.”
“Ren.” I dropped my eyes to his collar, unable to bear the tenderness in his gaze. “I just don’t see how it’s possible for us to be together.”
“Then you’re not looking hard enough.” He grasped my chin and tilted my head up so I couldn’t look away. His eyes were so warm and dark. “There is no one else but you. The world we both want—it’s impossible without you by my side.”
“But—”
“I won’t take any excuses.” His smile faltered just a bit. “Unless, of course, your reason is that you don’t feel the same.”
“I…”
I couldn’t lie. Not to him. Not about this.
“I feel the same,” I confessed.
His face glowed with the triumph of a long-awaited sunrise, and I realized I was smiling too. Speaking the truth out loud steadied me in a way I hadn’t expected—that, and Ren’s calming presence draping around me as we saw each other fully, unveiled, for the first time.
He exhaled, running a thumb across my jaw. “You’re so beautiful, Siying.”
My smile grew. “So are you.”
A soft blush bloomed across his cheeks, and he bent down until our foreheads brushed.
“Do you want to kiss me?” I whispered, as I’d teased so many months ago.
He chuckled, remembering. “Yes, very much.”
And with that, I pushed onto my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his, letting the bag of peaches slip from my hand.
I didn’t care that their flesh would bruise and I’d have to face Mistress Ming’s ire.
The doors in my mind—the ones I should’ve left alone—flung open, and sunlight, bright and unrestrained, heated me from head to toe.
Ren wound his fingers into my hair, pulling me closer until our heartbeats thumped in unison, separated only by skin and fabric.
His breath was warm against my lips, faintly sweet as if he’d recently eaten fruit or candy.
When I swept my fingers across the nape of his neck, his skin was wondrously, deliciously soft.
A quiet moan escaped my throat, and I felt Ren smile against me.
By the time we parted for air, my body swooned as if drunk, and my thoughts needed a few seconds to reorganize themselves into something coherent. I leaned my forehead against Ren’s, breathing raggedly.
“Shall we go in for some tea?” he whispered, playful. “It seems you need a respite.”
I swatted his arm. “I believe you’re insulting my health.”
He caught my fingers and brought them to his smile. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Mm-hm,” I hummed, hoping he couldn’t see my flushed cheeks. I busied myself with picking up the peaches I’d dropped.
Ren helped me gather the few that had rolled out of the bag. Then he gestured to the temple. “Lead the way.”
As we walked along the veranda, he reached over to take the bag from me, relieving my arm of the burden.
The fruit prompted him to tell a story about the time he stole all the peaches from a royal banquet and ate them on the roof overlooking the festivities.
His stomach had paid the price shortly after.
I relished the warmth of his hand in mine, remembering a time when I’d clung to my father and asked for forever. He’d promised it to me with all the well-meaning falsehood of a loving parent, not knowing just how soon he would have to leave.
It still hurt, that act of letting go, but I realized now that there was also freedom in doing it.
Freedom to be my own person and discover new loves.
Freedom to wander different paths, to experience more joy and struggle and growth.
Freedom to hold on to other hands, regardless of who would leave and who would stay.
I’d always known that death was inevitable. But so was life, and I’d live mine in honor of the father I’d loved and the little girl I’d been.
“Siying,” Ren interrupted my thoughts. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I said, releasing a deep breath, one that felt as if it’d been lodged in my lungs for years. “Yes, I am.”