They fell.
The portal spat them out violently.
Not into the palace courtyard as Yanlong had intended.
But high in the sky, several meters above the inner gardens.
The wind whistled past Tianyin’s ears.
She felt something close around her waist.
A hand.
Firm.
Steady.
Then that hand slid lower, settling against her hip.
Skin against skin.
Her inner robe had been torn in the forest.
The thin white fabric covered very little now.
And Yanlong’s hand was resting directly against her bare skin.
Tianyin froze.
She could feel the warmth of his hand.
The roughness of his palm.
The strength of the fingers holding her.
Every line of his palm seemed branded into her skin like a searing mark.
Her heart lurched inside her chest.
His grip tightened slightly, pulling her against him.
She felt the warmth of his body.
Too close.
Far too close.
No.
Not now.
Not this.
She tried to pull away, but the force of their fall threw her off balance.
She spun helplessly, her arms flailing through the air.
Her fingers caught a branch.
She clung to it with all her strength.
Yanlong landed below with the grace of a cat.
His feet touched the ground without a sound.
He straightened, adjusted his robes with a casual motion, and looked up.
Tianyin was hanging from a branch three meters above him.
Her hands gripped the wood desperately.
Her legs dangled in midair.
Her torn robe fluttered around her.
And from where he stood below…
Yanlong had a perfectly clear view of her bare feet.
Nothing but pale, delicate feet.
Her slender toes curled helplessly in the air, searching for something to stand on.
Yanlong folded his arms.
“It’s about time the Celestial Princess let go of that branch,” he said calmly.
The faintest smile touched his lips.
He was making fun of her.
Tianyin heard it.
She clenched her teeth so hard she bit her lip.
I will never show weakness.
Especially not in front of him.
She held on.
Her arms trembled from the strain.
Her fingers were beginning to slip.
But she refused to let go.
I’m not going to fall in front of him.
I’m a princess.
I am…
Her grip gave way.
She fell.
Yanlong caught her.
His arms closed around her before she could hit the ground.
He absorbed the impact without the slightest effort, as though she weighed nothing at all.
But in the motion, her robe flipped over her head.
The white fabric wrapped around her completely.
She couldn’t see a thing.
She struggled desperately, trying to pull it back down, trying to breathe.
Yanlong simply watched her.
His cold, calculating gaze fixed upon her.
At last, Tianyin managed to free her head.
Their eyes met.
Silence settled between them.
Heavy.
Awkward.
Filled with something neither of them wished to acknowledge.
Yanlong lowered his gaze.
Tianyin followed it…
And realized with horror what he was looking at.
She immediately drew her feet toward herself, trying to hide them beneath the folds of her robe.
“Don’t look at them!” she cried, pushing Yanlong’s face away with her hand.
Her voice was much higher than usual.
Almost panicked.
In the Celestial Realm, showing a man one’s bare feet was considered…
Something reserved for husbands.
For lovers.
And Yanlong was not her husband.
Not really.
Yanlong said nothing.
He simply lifted her into his arms.
And carried her toward the palace interior.
“Where are you taking me?” Tianyin asked, stiffening.
“Put me down this instant!”
He didn’t answer.
He continued walking at an even, unhurried pace.
She could feel the warmth of his body through their clothes.
She could feel his steady breathing against her forehead.
She could feel the muscles in his arms subtly tense with every step.
A vassal appeared in the corridor.
Without slowing down, Yanlong spoke.
“Prepare a bath.”
“Immediately.”
“And bring clean clothes for both of us.”
The vassal bowed and disappeared.
A few seconds later, Tianyin finally processed what he had said.
“What?
Both of us?
I…
no, I’ll wash myself.
You don’t have to—”
“I wasn’t asking.”
Yanlong’s voice was flat.
He kept walking.
His arms held her securely.
She tried to climb down, but his grip only tightened.
“Let me go!” she shouted.
“I can walk by myself!”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“You’ve lost your shoes.”
“The floor is cold.”
“I don’t care!
I—”
“I do.”
She froze.
What?
She looked up at him.
His face remained as impassive as ever.
As though what he had just said carried no special meaning.
As though it were nothing more than a simple statement of fact.
Yet something inside her chest tightened.
They passed the palace maids in the corridor.
The women stopped in their tracks as they watched them go by.
Then they exchanged glances.
Smiles spread across their faces.
A few even stifled quiet giggles behind their sleeves.
It was rare—
No.
It was unprecedented—
For Crown Prince Yanlong to be so…
Affectionate.
So attentive.
Tianyin felt her cheeks burn.
She buried her face against Yanlong’s collar to escape their gazes.
Stop looking at me like that.
It’s as if we’re…
She refused to finish the thought.
Yanlong stopped before a large lacquered wooden door.
The bathhouse.
Tianyin immediately tried to climb down.
“You can put me down now.”
“I’ll manage on my own.”
“You can leave.”
She spoke quickly, trying to create some distance between them.
At last, Yanlong set her down.
She headed straight for the exit.
Then stopped.
Yanlong had placed one arm against the door.
Just above her head.
She was trapped between him and the wood.
“What are you doing?” she asked, turning toward him.
He didn’t answer.
A vassal arrived carrying a tray.
Fresh clothes, neatly folded.
Fragrant white towels.
Yanlong took the tray.
The lock clicked into place.
Tianyin instinctively took a step back.
“I…
I should leave.”
“This isn’t…”
“It isn’t appropriate for the two of us to be here.”
“Alone.”
Yanlong stepped toward her.
He was imposing.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
And there was nowhere for her to run.
She was trapped between him and the walls.
He began removing his robe.
His hands undid the knots with mechanical efficiency.
The fabric slid from his shoulders.
Tianyin spun around so quickly she nearly stumbled.
“What are you doing?!”
“I’m undressing.”
“To bathe.”
“I believe that’s customary in a bathhouse.”
His voice was flat.
Almost ironic.
Tianyin felt her face grow unbearably hot.
Don’t turn around.
Don’t look at him.
Just…
breathe.
She heard the rustle of fabric falling to the floor.
One layer.
Then another.
The soft whisper of silk sliding across the ground.
Then came footsteps.
Drawing closer.
Slow.
Measured.
Deliberate.
She pressed herself against the wall.
The footsteps continued.
Closer.
Closer still.
She could feel his presence behind her.
The warmth of his body.
His breath brushing lightly against the back of her neck.
She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter.
Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.
She suddenly spun around, her eyes still closed.
“Don’t come any closer!”
She never had the chance to finish.
She felt something brush against her ankle.
Then slowly slide upward along her calf.
A hand.
Her eyes flew open.
Yanlong was crouching before her.
On one knee.
His head tilted upward as he looked at her.
He was holding her left foot in his hand.
The foot bearing the bracelet.
His fingers lightly traced the golden metal with an almost unbearable slowness.
As though he were studying every curve.
Every engraved detail.
Then his thumb slipped beneath the bracelet.
Gently caressing the skin beneath it.
Tianyin held her breath.
The sensation was…
Too much.
Too intimate.
Too gentle.
Too precise.
She wanted to pull her foot away.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to disappear.
But she couldn’t move.
Her eyes were fixed on him.
On this cold, impassive, distant man…
Who was now kneeling before her, holding her foot as though it were something precious.
And in his eyes…
She saw a determination she had never seen before.
Something burning.
Something dangerous.
Something that said—
As long as I’m here…
I will find a way to destroy this bracelet.