The moon hung high above the Crown Prince's manor, silver and silent, casting long shadows through the open-air walkways. By the time I left Zhao Meiling's destroyed quarters, the fires in most lanterns had been doused, the servants had retreated to corners, and the palace had gone quiet.
Except for the footsteps behind me.
Shi Yaozu didn't speak until we turned into the last corridor. He followed me like a shadow—not the loyal kind, but one uncertain of its shape.
"What's wrong?" I asked, without turning my head.
There was a long pause before he opened his mouth to speak. "Is it normal to feel like something's moving inside your chest?" he asked, his voice soft, but I could hear something in it that I had never heard before.
Uncertainty.
I stopped walking.
