He was back.

She carefully made her way to the garden, her heart thumping in her chest loudly as her long robes dragged on the ground beneath her. In her hands she carried a tray of precious china cups and a pot of freshly brewed tea that she had made herself. The contents of the teapot were still piping hot, seen by the steam that serenely climbed its way into the cool, winter air and disappeared.

It was the first day of winter.

The sun setting in the distance painted the sky a vivid purple and blue, her favourite colours. Her lips curled in a smile at that.

The garden was silent except for her footsteps rushing to see him and the rattling of the fine china tea set against the tray. Had she been at home, she would have been reprimanded immediately and perhaps hit by her father for being so ungraceful.

But she was not at home anymore, and she would never return home.

There were no servants following her at a safe distance like they normally did, to ensure she did not get lost or perhaps run away. She had dismissed them, much to their discomfort. But they knew that it was impossible for her to find a way out of the garden and into the city.

He was waiting for her at the pavilion, as usual. It was their place, according to him.

The pond was beginning to freeze over and she was sure that if she were to peer across the tranquil waters, the koi fish would not surface like they usually did.

Her hands were shaking as he greeted her with his gentle smile akin to the unassuming sun on a spring day. He took the tray she held, easing her grip from it before setting the tray on the marble table that sat in the centre of the pavilion.

The steam from the tea sitting in the delicate teapot continued to climb lazily into the chilly air.

“Did you miss me?” he gently asked, taking her hands into his, rubbing her hands with care to warm them up. Her hands were a deathly white from the cold and from holding the tray in a death grip. It was just like him to notice such small details.

It was very unlike what she was used to at home.

She refused to answer. However, she did manage a weak smile for him. It made him surprised for a second, for her smile was much dimmer than usual. He did not ask, knowing she would tell him in due time. Taking her silence in stride, he let go of her hand and sat down on a marble seat. He gestured at her to do the same. She did.

“How did the meeting go?” she asked softly as snow began to dance from the Heavens. The sky was sombre as the clouds began to roll in, and she was sure that there was a brewing snowstorm. It was cold but not quite cold enough for the snow to stay on the ground. She never quite liked these kinds of snowstorms—the kind where the snow melted once it hit the Earth.

It reminded her too much of how nothing lasted forever.

They ignored the tray of tea, the contents of the teapot still hot.

“Your father refuses to cooperate,” Renjun mused, although there was a hint of frustration in his voice. He ran a hand through his dark brown locks, pushing his hair away from his face, “Never have I met a man this stubborn and insufferable. He refuses any help from us in the coming winter and insists that the people in Yuan will do just fine without our supplies.”

Her arrival was meant to be a token of truce and peace between the two empires, yet it seemed like her presence had just fueled tension between the two. She did not believe the tentative truce would last much longer (for it was actually never meant to last).

She exhaled slowly, deep in thought as she watched her warm breath make little, visible puffs of air.

“I must have made him very upset because I mentioned that you were living well.” He then added as an afterthought, “I also mentioned that we are now considering marriage.”

She froze at that, imagining the pure anger and sinister expression that her father must have had. Shivering, she clasped her hands together on the ledge of the marble table.

Her purpose here was not to get married or fall in love. She was here on a far more sinister mission… it did not help that she had also cut off contact with the Yuan Empire, refusing to respond to any letters her father sent.

She was one of the beloved ladies of the Yuan House, the ruling family of the Yuan Empire. Prior to being gifted to Renjun, she was active in the Yuan Empire, often visiting the sick and wounded and offering her skills as a healer. The people probably saw him as a monster who stole away the lady who cared for them, probably no thanks to the propaganda her father and the Emperor were spreading.

She almost smiled at that. If only they knew.

He had been nothing but gentle with her. It was much different living in the Huang Empire than what she had expected. She was well-respected and she did not feel like she had walked into her deathbed. If anything, it was almost as if she were finally living.

She trailed off in her thoughts, musing that Renjun telling her father that he wanted to ask for her hand would explain the missive she received in the morning from her father. Her father had left her predominantly alone for the last three months since her arrival, believing that perhaps she was watched too closely to respond, but it was clear that he was angry with her and believed she had defected.

Renjun continued to speak, ranting about her father, who was the second-hand man of the Yuan Emperor, her uncle. It was not until she noticed that he was staring intently at her that she realized she had zoned out in her thoughts and not heard a word he said.

He was exasperated, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that hinted that he was not very upset, “You were not listening at all were you?”

She opted to just ignore his question and turned to look out at the brilliant snow falling from the Heavens. It was now snowing hard, almost as if it were the last time it would snow. Perhaps it would be, for her.

“The snow is beautiful.”

Renjun followed her gaze out into the garden, where the snow was beginning to cover the earth. He looked back to her, a small smile, wondering what she was thinking about. “I agree.” But not as beautiful as you.

She was truly a sight, sitting across from him in her majestic silver-white robes. With her every little move, the silver thread in her robes glimmered. Her dark, ebony hair was done half-up intricately, with a few strands out of place but it did not detract from her beauty. From her ears hung simple pearl earrings that he had gifted her two months ago, when he declared that he truly enjoyed her company.

Feeling his stare, she turned to study him carefully. Renjun was a general in the Huang’s Imperial Army, yet his temperance suggested anything but. He was gentle and kind, although he could be cunning and rather insufferable at times. Perhaps that was why he was a skilled general in the field, for he did not let his emotions get the best of him and separated his personality on the battlefield from who he truly was.

It was so unlike her father, who used brute force whenever he was angered. She had made him angered many times in her childhood and even as she grew into a lady. When Renjun had somehow found out that her father had beaten her often throughout her childhood and it was a common occurrence in her life, he had been enraged. He refused to let her father ever see her again.

She did not understand why he cared so much about whether or not her father beat her or not. It was what women in Yuan were used to, after all. She did not mind, however, not ever seeing her father ever again.

She cradled the rib that had phantom pains every now and then. If the