JingYi turned her gaze back to the night sky. “Let me watch the moon a little longer,” she said. “Then you may take me back to Magnolia Palace.”
Haorán inclined his head and stepped back to his silent vigil. She could no longer see him, but she felt his presence there—steady, reassuring.
Stillness settled again. Her gaze returned to the sky. As the moon traced its way, one truth remained, clear and unchanging: The path ahead would have to make room for the entirety of her—the woman who missed him, the heart that loved him, and the will that had chosen to leave.
All three, moving forward.
CHAPTER 68
ALEXANDER
The brush caught mid-curve, spilling ink like a wound that wouldn’t clot. Alexander stared at the blot and watched the tip of the brush tremble. Too much water, not enough control. The character he’d meant to copy resembled a withered insect.
“Again,” came Scholar Wen’s voice from the shade behind him. Not unkind, but not coddling either.
Alexander nodded and dipped the brush again. The stroke was meant to rise gently, then hook left in a motion he still hadn’t mastered. He moved slower this time, but the brush snagged on the parchment’s texture and left a stuttered edge.
“Ké, notkè,” the old man corrected in Xûengua, tapping the sheet with a knuckle. “You’ve written ‘carve,’ not ‘dog.’ Though some dogs do leave their mark.”
The scholar chuckled at his own joke and shuffled off, leaving Alexander to scowl at the ink-stained grid of failures.
But he grabbed another clean parchment and tried again.
It was morning in Changzihua, and the air still held the night’s coolness. From the veranda where he sat cross-legged, he could see the tiled rooftops curving like sleeping beasts, pale mist trailing between their ridges. The city hadn’t yet shaken offthe hush of dawn. There was something poetic about the way each day unfolded here—almost ceremonial. Even the silence seemed to have structure.
He’d lived among the locals for a month now, far from the mountain fortresses and stone halls of Tremore. Here, he wasn’t Lord Wulfbane. He was just a foreigner who studied with a stiff back, broke half his brushes, and cursed under his breath in Tremesi when he forgot the tonal difference betweenwateranddog.
Still, he showed up each morning.
He studied their scripts with clumsy reverence, spilled ink on his sleeves, and practiced pronouncing herbal ingredients he couldn’t yet identify. A few days ago, Scholar Wen had left out a medical scroll—lists of root properties and poultices in delicate calligraphy. Alexander had tried to sound out the words. He could only guess what each character meant.
JingYi would’ve known in a flash.
The thought caught him unguarded.
He blinked and lifted his eyes toward the yard beyond the rail, past a pair of children chasing a paper kite shaped like a rabbit, giggling as it flopped against a trough, groaning when the tail got soaked in water. Past the shopkeeper ladling water onto the street. If he squinted at the horizon, he could glimpse the gold structures of the Imperial Palace of a Thousand Suns.
She’d walked among these sounds, grew up with them albeit from within her cage.
And still, she had come to Tremore and learned his language—for him,an Alpha she’d never met—though she never admitted it aloud. She’d spoken with grace and broken syntax, practiced his customs with care.
Now, it was his turn.
He wished he could’ve come sooner, but the earliest he’d been able to leave Blackwood-Veyrde was nearly a month after she departed.
Too much needed shoring up before he could safely relinquish the reins. The mines had to be stabilized. His first act was to reappoint Ulrik as foreman; the man’s experience and respect among the workers were invaluable during the transition.
Darion remained as second-in-command, overseeing Parandor’s broader operations with his grumbling yet efficient ways.
Conrad, healed and eager, assisted wherever needed. It was hard work, but Alexander saw in him the makings of a true leader.
Yrenna, meanwhile, had taken up her old post as chatelaine with grace.
Lord Krystoff Reave offered additional support, lending men, resources, and counsel while Alexander was away—his friendship never once in question.
Still, each decision had cost time. It wasn’t until the last contract was signed and the final report delivered to the capital that Alexander allowed himself to turn his gaze southward.
Toward Changzihua. Toward her.
