The air in the room seemed to thicken the moment Shuo Jin entered. Anchhi, who had been quietly managing her bed, felt his presence before she even saw him. His footsteps were deliberate, but there was something off—a tension that hummed beneath the surface, making her pulse quicken.
"Jia'er." His voice, sharp but restrained, cut through the silence, and she froze. The sound of that name on his lips sent a wave of discomfort through her. It wasn't his voice that hurt; it was the name. The name that once belonged to another time, to another man. Hui Jing used to call her by that name—Jia'er—and now it tasted bitter. It sounded wrong coming from Shuo Jin.
She turned to face him, confusion and pain rippling through her chest. He was leaning casually by the window, but his body was anything but relaxed. His posture was too rigid, his eyes too dark, and though his expression was controlled, she could see the rage lurking just beneath the surface.
"Isn't that what he calls you?" he asked, his voice laced with mockery. There was a sharpness to his tone that cut deeper than the words themselves. His gaze flicked toward her, piercing, accusing. She could feel it even though his face remained impassive.
Anchhi's throat tightened, her heart sinking as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Why was he mocking her? Why now?
He pointed out the window with his chin, a casual movement that felt anything but. "If you really want to return with Hui Jing, then just go." His words were tossed out with such indifference, it was as if he was talking about the weather.
Anchhi let out a bitter chuckle, though there was nothing humorous about the moment. "I really don't want to go," she murmured, the words trembling as they escaped her lips. Her hand gripped the fabric of her gown, trying to steady herself as emotions surged within her. She could barely keep herself standing. It was as though the ground beneath her was crumbling, and she was on the verge of yet another breakdown.
Shuo Jin's eyes were still fixed on her, cold and unreadable. "Hui Jing is the Crown Prince," he said, the mockery still lacing his voice. "You two had a history together." He paused for a beat, letting the words hang in the air. "He's so pitiful. He was weeping for you just now."
Anchhi blinked, stunned by the casual cruelty of his words. They were thrown out as if they meant nothing to him. But the sting of it was sharp. Her chest ached, a deep, suffocating pain she couldn't fully explain. Was it his words that cut, or was it the idea of returning to Hui Jing, of facing the proposal he had made to take her back to the capital?
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she swallowed hard, forcing them back. She couldn't break now. Not in front of him. "I don't know," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she kept her emotions at bay. "But I like it here. I won't go anywhere."
Shuo Jin's eyes narrowed slightly. He stepped closer, his presence commanding the room. "But is he good for you?" he asked, the question loaded with something darker, something almost possessive.
Anchhi couldn't answer. She didn't know how. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Her mind was swirling with too many thoughts, too many emotions to untangle.
Without waiting for a response, Shuo Jin walked past her, the coldness between them deepening with each step he took. He stopped near the door, his back to her.
"I won't be here tonight," he said, his voice steady, though there was an edge to it. "You'll be alone. So, you should go with him."
His words hit her like a blow. Her lips parted, wanting to respond, but the words stuck in her throat. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how easy it was for him to say those things. How dare he tell her to leave, as though her presence meant nothing to him?
She stared at his back, rigid and unyielding, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something—some flicker of pain or hesitation. But then it was gone, buried beneath the layers of control he had perfected over the years.
"How easy of you to say that First Prince," she thought, her mind swirling with bitterness, regret, and something else—something deeper, more painful, that she didn't want to acknowledge.
Before she could find her voice, Shuo Jin exited the chamber, leaving her standing alone.
~~~~~~
His footsteps echoed in the corridor as he left the chamber. Why had he pushed her like that? Why had he thrown Hui Jing's name in her face, as if he didn't care?
But he cared. Too much. That was the problem.
The moment he had seen Hui Jing, standing there with his pleading eyes and pitiful words, something dark had snapped inside Shuo Jin. Inside, his heart was waging a war.
The truth he couldn't deny, no matter how much he tried. He cared for her more than he should, more than was right. Hui Jing's betrayal had scarred her, and Shuo Jin had been there to witness it all.
The Crown Prince still held a piece of her heart, and though Anchhi might deny it, Shuo Jin could feel it. His sudden presence had stirred a possessiveness in Shuo Jin that frightened him. And yet, at the same time, he hated himself for caring so deeply, for wanting to keep her close, even when he knew it wasn't his place.
He clenched his fists at his sides, the sharp sting of the cold biting at his skin. She wouldn't go with Hui Jing. He knew that. But still, the thought of her with the Crown Prince made his chest tighten with jealousy, a feeling he had no right to have.
And for now, all Shuo Jin could do was distance himself, hope that the storm raging inside him would calm before morning.