Page 54 of The Immortal’s Mark

“Are you recovered?” Carefully neutral.

“I’m always recovered. It’s kind of my thing.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. Almost a smile. I notice.

I notice the moonlight catching his profile. The stillness of him—mountain-stillness, the kind that makes my restlessness feel like static by comparison. The way his hands are clasped behind his back, precise and controlled.

I notice I’m noticing.

The comfortable silence returns. It shouldn’t be comfortable. We’ve known each other for a week. A week ago I was trying to kill him.

But the silence sits between us like it belongs there, and I don’t feel the need to fill it. Which is wrong. Silence is danger. Silence is space for thinking.

I break first.

“You carried me.” The words come out before I can stop them. “Through the palace. In front of everyone.”

“Yes.”

“That was a political disaster.”

“Probably.”

“The court will talk for weeks.”

“Let them.”

Two words.

Two words and he’s dismissed the entire imperial court’s opinion. Centuries of protocol. The careful dance of politics that keeps empires from crumbling.

For what?

For me?

I’ve watched empires fall for love. The Jin empress who murdered her way to power for a stable boy. The Sui prince who started a war over a dancer’s smile. I know how this story ends. Usually in blood. Usually in ash.

The dynasties blur after a while. The pattern doesn’t.

I should leave. I should walk away right now, before this becomes something that can hurt.

I stay.

We’re standing too close. When did that happen? The jasmine is too sweet. The moon is too bright. His hand moves—

Almost reaches for mine.

Doesn’t.

The not-touching is louder than any touch.

I can feel the warmth of him from here. Smell sandalwood and something else underneath—ink and paper and the particular exhaustion of someone who carries too much. My fingers twitch at my sides. I keep them still by force of will.

Eight hundred years.

Eight hundred years and I’ve never wanted to close a distance like this. Never felt the space between two bodies like a physical ache.

This is a mistake.