Page 35 of For Ever More

“Lord Jin-Yong, you bear the weight of your kingdom on your shoulders, one in opposition to mine. Just as you won’t sacrifice your duty to your people, I won’t relinquish what I’ve fought so hard to regain.”

The light in his eyes dims. “You call me ‘Lord Jin-Yong’ to set a divide between us, to remind yourself to keep your distance. One day you will utter it not with anger, resentment, or suspicion, but an entirely different emotion. I wait for that day. I hope it won’t be too long—nor too late.”

In the distance, the lights of Thorn Valley flicker to life. As Jin turns from me, a violent regret seizes my chest. But this fragile bond with my home is precious to me, I won’t jeopardize it.

The barrier that Jin and I crafted in the Ancient Grove is stronger, lasting more than a week this time. However, the damage to the Rose of Thorn Valley can’t be undone, the edges of its petals still crinkled—the grove still riddled with hostile thorns and withered pale grass. As Jin said, this isn’t the cure. But the pace of the decay has slowed within Thorn Valley, our efforts easing the strain on Jin’s people, allowing them time to seek a remedy.

“Do you want to rest before returning?” he asks as we leave the grove. His manner is that of a cordial host extending a courtesy to a guest—not caring whether they accept.

I glance at the dark skies, still a long way from dawn. “There’s no need. I should go.”

We ride toward the pier, neither of us speaking. It’s safer to leave, yet it stings that Jin doesn’t persuade me to stay. As he helps me on the boat, a tremor ripples from his touch, lingering even after he releases me. Closer to my home, the fireflies descend in their now familiar dance, spiraling around me.

Jin rises, setting the oars down. “Be careful,” he says, sounding almost concerned.

My smile is hard. “Don’t worry, Lord Jin-Yong. I’ll keep myself safe to answer your next summons.”

His eyes flash. “Regardless of your reasons, just keep yourself safe.”

As the fireflies cluster tighter, weaving their net to lift me into the sky, I hold his gaze—suddenly unsure of the enemy I need to guard against. While I used to fear Jin’s betrayal… now what I’m beginning to fear more is my own heart.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ONCE I LAND ON THE GROUND, THE FIREFLIES DISPERSE, leaving no trail. The air has cooled, the earth damp as though it rained in my absence. I peer at the sky, unable to see the stars through the fog. According to Shenming, who has resumed his visits to my family, there is still no sign of the Waterfall of Eternal Night. People are beginning to fret, even the Elders are growing anxious. I want them to find the waterfall, afraid for the dragon—tired of this ceaseless inward battle like I’m chained to a monster that might awaken at any moment, leaving me nowhere to run. There are few things I fear more than being trapped.

Folding my arms, I stride home, my pace quick, almost careless along the deserted path. I catch the step behind too late, bolting away at the clink of a blade in its scabbard. But a firm hand seizes my shoulder, holding me in place. Fear needles me as I wrench free, swinging around to slam a fist against my assailant’s chin. A man hisses in discomfort, his face cast in shadow. When he lunges at me again, I kick him—but he steadies himself swiftly, a trained fighter. As the moonlight falls over his face, I freeze.

“Shenming? What are you doing here?” The surprise in my voice is real.

His eyes thin with speculation. Right now, he doesn’t look like the friend who sits at our table and laughs with my father and sister; he looks ready to stab me if I run.

“I am a soldier of the island, I serve the Elders. I patrol our grounds to keep us safe. The question is: What are you doing here?” His tone is stern and unflinching.

“I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk.”

“Cloud Ridge is far from your home. Abandoned—”

“—and quiet.” I look at him as though there’s nothing to hide. “I’ve lived most of my life alone in the Iron Mountains, trying to avoid my step-aunt. I’m lucky to be home. But at times the house can feel crowded. Don’t you ever want to be alone, Shenming?”

He inclines his head in understanding. I lie better than Jin thinks, at least to those I have no compunction in deceiving. “My parents were always busy; I was left on my own most of my childhood too. Unlike you, I grew to dread it. When one feels alone, the silence is loud.”

“Then why did you come here?” I ask.

“Strange glimpses of light were reported.” He examines my face. “Did you see anything?”

The fireflies. “Was it this?” I pull out one of the yellow flowers from our garden, crushing its petals to emit a bright glow. “Some paths here were steeper than expected, and I was afraid of falling in the dark. Dian gave these to me.”

His face softens at the mention of my sister, as he takes the flower and inspects it. “Your family cultivates the rarest plants here, second only to the Elders’ garden.”

“If there is anything you need, Dian and Father would be happy to share it with you.” I feign a yawn, stretching my arms. “I should return home.”

“I’ll accompany you,” he offers. “It’s almost time for breakfast.”

I force a smile in a semblance of gratitude. As we walk, I slow to match his measured pace, his gaze searching our surroundings. Fortunately, he appears as eager as me to avoid conversation. Anything I let slip could find its way back to the Elders. As we approach my home, the first glimmers of dawn are threading the night.

The door is thrown open, Father hurrying out. “Yining, where were you? You weren’t in your room this morning.” At the sight of Shenming, his frown morphs into confusion, then a wide smile in a blatant misreading of the situation

“I went for a walk. I didn’t mean to worry you, Father—”