The cloak slipped through her numb fingers, landing in the snow with a soft whump. "I couldn't possibly . . "
"Sit."
He gestured to a nearby bench sheltered by an ancient cedar and when he saw that she didn't move, he added, "That's an order."
The bench groaned under their combined weight as she joined him, draping the cloak around her shoulders.
Up close, she could see how the cold had reddened his bare hands, the old scars standing out like pale threads against his skin.
"Aren't you freezing?". The question escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Prince Jingzhe flexed his fingers, watching the joints move. "How can one call himself a man if one can't endure this simple ordeal?"
The memory struck her like a physical blow at his words , stories of him as a boy kneeling in a blizzard, his blood staining the palace steps.
She swallowed hard. "You...you endured worse as a child."
