Snow fell lightly over the mountains of the Western Province as the stronghold finally settled into silence. The red blood staining the old snow was slowly covered. If it weren’t for the unrecovered bodies, you wouldn’t have been able to tell what had occurred just moments earlier.

Injured soldiers were carried to medical tents. The dead were burned. Hostages were tied up and taken away.

You were asleep.

In a way, you had caused all of this. Your father, Lakan, had insisted that Jinshi take up arms against Shishou’s fortress to return you home, and he had agreed, setting sail soon after. If you hadn’t gotten yourself kidnapped, maybe this could have been prevented, or at least postponed.

Maybe Shisui would still be alive.

Since leaving the stronghold, that had been all you could think about. Not your injuries, not Jinshi, not even the dead children you’d been asked to take care of as Shisui’s final wish.

Eventually, you’d fallen asleep. It was the only way to get your thoughts to quiet.

You hadn’t seen Jinshi in weeks, aside from your brief reunion earlier that day. But as you felt someone gently tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, you knew that he’d come to find you.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, cracking your eyes open.

He recoils, pulling his hand back slightly as he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

You sit up, studying him. There was a bandage wrapped around his head, covering what appeared to be a gash on his cheek. Aside from that, he seemed uninjured, although his exhaustion was nearly palpable.

“You’re injured,” you say, moving closer to look at the injury. You brush a hand against the bandage covering the wound on his cheek, much to his surprise. “Why were you on the front lines?”

“Did you expect me to stay back?” Jinshi asks.

“No, but you still should have,” you retort.

He lets you untie the bandage, allowing you to peel it off to look at the gash Shisui had given him.