Anchhi's steps faltered the moment she laid eyes on him. The world around her seemed to tilt, the solid ground beneath her suddenly unstable. Her breath caught in her throat, and her mind struggled to comprehend why he was here, of all places.
Hui Jing—her childhood sweetheart, the man she once believed in, the man who had shattered her trust and left her to face the darkest moments of her life alone. His betrayal was a wound that had never truly healed, a thorn buried deep within her heart that twisted every time she thought of him. And now, here he was, standing before her as if he had the right.
Shuo Jin's expression remained impassive. He returned the Crown Prince's formal bow with nothing more than a curt nod.
"Brother," Hui Jing greeted, his tone respectful but guarded. Then he turned to Anchhi, his eyes flickering with something she couldn't place—remorse? Guilt? It didn't matter. She didn't care.
Her chest tightened, her pulse pounding in her ears. She barely heard Shuo Jin's low response as her gaze locked onto Hui Jing's face. Her vision blurred as memories came flooding back—memories of that day. The day her world had crumbled. The day her father was executed, and Hui Jing had done nothing.
She didn't bow in return. She couldn't. The anger, the betrayal that had festered within her since that day, surged up like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her.
Without a word, without sparing him another glance, she turned on her heel and walked swiftly toward her chamber. Her breath was shallow, her hands trembling as she gripped the edges of her cloak tighter, willing herself to keep walking.
Each step felt heavier than the last. It was as if the air itself had thickened, pressing down on her, suffocating her. Her chest constricted, and she could feel the edges of a panic attack creeping in. Her mind was spinning, the emotions she had buried for so long clawing their way to the surface.
Anchhi barely made it to her chamber before the dam broke. As soon as she was inside, she slammed the door shut and leaned against it, her body trembling. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she pressed them against her chest, trying to steady her breathing, trying to contain the storm inside her. But the memories—oh, the memories—they were relentless.
Her father's execution flashed before her eyes, vivid and brutal, as if it had happened only yesterday. The crowd's roar, the clang of the executioner's blade, the blood—so much blood.
And there, standing amidst it all, was Hui Jing. Silent. Unmoving. He had been there, standing in the shadows, watching as her life was torn apart. And he had done nothing.
Anchhi remembered the way he had looked at her, the cold indifference in his eyes. He hadn't stood by her side, hadn't defended her or her family. He had left her to die.
The betrayal was like a knife twisting in her chest. How could he have done that? How could he have pretended to care for her, only to abandon her when she needed him the most? She had been so foolish, so blind to his true nature. And now, the sight of him brought it all crashing back.
She pressed her hand to her mouth, choking back a sob. No, she couldn't cry. She wouldn't.
Hui Jing didn't deserve her tears. He had taken enough from her already. Her freedom, her trust, her father. He didn't deserve another piece of her.
But the pain was too much. The weight of it crushed her, and before she knew it, she sank to the floor, her body trembling as silent sobs wracked her frame.
Why had he come here? Why now?
~~~~~~~~~
The courtyard was bathed in the pale glow of the fading daylight, casting long shadows across the snow-covered ground. It was quiet, save for the soft crunch of boots against the frost as Hui Jing and Shuo Jin faced each other.
The cold air bit sharply, but the tension between them was far colder.
Hui Jing was the first to break the silence. "First brother," he began, his voice measured, almost formal. "I owe you my gratitude. For taking care of her, for bringing her here." He glanced briefly toward the manor where Anchhi had disappeared, then back at Shuo Jin. "For protecting Jia'er when I—" He hesitated. "When I failed to."
Shuo Jin's response was swift, a dark chuckle slipping from his lips. The sound was as cutting as the mountain winds. "Cut the crap, Your Highness," Shuo Jin interrupted, his tone as icy as the air around them. His eyes glinted with a sharp edge, the contempt in his voice palpable. "Why bother your royal feet to climb all the way up here, in this freezing cold?" His voice dripped with nonchalance, but underneath, a deeper storm brewed.
Hui Jing's expression shifted. The practiced mask of royalty faltered, revealing the regret beneath. His gaze dropped for a moment, a flicker of remorse darkening his eyes. "First brother," he began again, quieter now, "I know I don't deserve to come after her, not after everything that's happened." His voice wavered slightly, the weight of guilt heavy in his words. "I couldn't save her or her family… her father." His throat tightened as he spoke. "I am responsible for all of it."
But Shuo Jin's patience was thin. His mind was already elsewhere, his irritation clear in the way he tilted his head slightly, the barest hint of a smirk still playing at his lips. He was bored of Hui Jing's guilt, of his empty words.
"Why are you really here, Crown Prince?" Shuo Jin asked again, his voice cutting through Hui Jing's attempt at an explanation like a blade. He didn't care for his apologies.
Hui Jing exhaled slowly, meeting his brother's gaze once more. "Fourth prince has regained consciousness," he began, his voice steadier now, more formal. "He shared his side of the story with Emperor Father, and—" He paused, letting the words sink in. "Jia'er is innocent. Emperor father has restored her noble identity, and Fei Manor has been unsealed. The Fei family's titles and nobility have been returned."
Shuo Jin's expression barely changed, but there was a subtle shift in the air around him, a tension that coiled tighter. The muscles in his jaw clenched ever so slightly, and his hawk-like eyes bored into Hui Jing's, unblinking. "And?" Shuo Jin prompted, though he already knew what was coming.
"I am here to take her with me, back to the capital," Hui Jing finished, his words hanging in the cold air between them.
Shuo Jin's gaze darkened, his sharp features hardening as his words settled. The audacity. The sheer arrogance of it. As though his remorse was enough to erase the pain, the betrayal, the scars that still haunted her.
For a moment, Shuo Jin said nothing. His lips pressed into a thin line, and a muscle twitched in his temple. His mind raced, but not with indecision—with fury. Fury that Hui Jing thought he had the right to make such a demand.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Is that so?" His eyes gleamed with something dark and unrelenting.
But before Hui Jing could respond, Shuo Jin turned on his heel and strode away without another word, leaving the Crown Prince standing alone in the courtyard.
His mind was a storm as he walked back into the manor. His thoughts churned, a mix of anger and something else—something raw and fiercely protective.