The Night's Whisper
The evening breeze carried a chill, scattering the last wisps of candle smoke in the study. I leaned against the windowsill, fingers absently twisting the edge of my sleeve, my mind relentlessly circling the Crown Prince’s words—
"Stand by my side, and you will truly survive."
That moment of closeness—the heat of his palm, the unreadable flicker in his eyes—had coiled around my reason like chains, tightening with every breath.
Then, a voice, low and magnetic, cut through the night like a blade piercing fog, striking straight to my core—
"You’re wavering."
I whirled around. There, atop the windowsill, stood a figure bathed in moonlight. The wind lifted the edges of his robes, his ink-dark hair swirling like a tempest. He seemed less a man and more a deity descended from the night—calm, detached, yet radiating an inescapable pressure.
Mo Xuanli.
The elusive vice-commander of the Imperial Guard, his influence unassuming yet undeniable, holding half the authority over the Crown Prince’s shadow forces.
And he belonged to no one.
I stiffened, forcing composure. "Why are you here?"
He didn’t answer, only stepped closer, his voice a blade sheathed in ice:
"The Crown Prince’s words unsettled you."
A frown tightened my brow. "You were eavesdropping?"
"Not eavesdropping. Observing." His gaze was a mirror, reflecting every crack in my facade. "Now that you’re a piece on the board, you should know how others will judge your every move."
He closed the distance between us until barely a breath remained. I retreated a step—but then his hand lifted, fingertips brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead. His voice dropped, barely audible:
"But I am not others."
For a heartbeat, something flickered in his tone—not command, not scrutiny, but... something perilously close to care, buried deep.
I froze.
"Mo Xuanli, you—"
"You trust too easily." He withdrew, his voice cool once more. "In this game, emotion is the most dangerous weapon."
With a sweep of his sleeve, he vanished into the night like a shadow taking flight.
And I—I stood rooted, my pulse racing faster than it had beneath the Crown Prince’s gaze.
Why had he come so close?
Why had his voice held that faint, unwilling tenderness?
ns216.73.216.168da2
and then Add to home screen.