Chapter 162: Someone is Talking About You
Outside, Xuan lost the thread of his breathing.
The Qi had just begun to move properly through his meridians, thin and stubborn, when a sudden sneeze broke the circulation and sent the gathered current scattering through his chest like frightened birds.
He froze with Marrow Dragon half-raised.
’...Really?’
Mira’s voice entered with far too much satisfaction.
[ Someone is talking about you. ]
Xuan rubbed his nose with the back of his wrist. ’I hope it is about my talent, my discipline, my astonishing face, and the general tragedy of how underpraised I am.’
[ I am rolling my nonexistent eyes. ]
’That means you agree.’
[ It means your Qi circulation collapsed because your own ego attacked your nose. Start again. ]
Xuan looked toward the room across the hall, where Lian and Su Qingyue were speaking too softly for him to hear. For a moment, he considered whether either of them would actually say such generous things about him.
Probably not.
Unfair, really.
He drew in another breath and forced the Qi back into motion.
Inside the room, Qingyue had not heard the exchange in his head, but she did hear the sneeze. Her eyes moved briefly toward the courtyard.
Lian paused with a folded cover in both hands. "Did Young Master Xuan sneeze?"
"He did."
"Is he ill?"
Qingyue looked through the open doorway, where Xuan had already returned to training as if nothing had happened. "No, I don’t think so, but I think his pride survived."
Lian lowered her head, but the corner of her mouth gave her away, then she shifted the folded cover in her hands, then glanced up. "Lady Qingyue... you said he was unusual."
Qingyue gave a small nod. "I did."
Lian placed the folded cover near the sleeping mat, then hesitated.
Qingyue glanced at her. "You have something else to ask?"
Lian lowered her gaze, fingers tightening slightly around the cloth. "I... do. But I am not sure if I should. This one may be too personal."
"That depends on how foolish it is."
Lian’s fingers tightened around the edge of the cloth. She was trying to be proper. She was also sixteen, curious, and trapped in a room with the future wife of the young master she had watched grow from a proud boy into a broken one, and then into whatever impossible thing stood in the courtyard now.
That curiosity was not hard to see.
Qingyue waited.
Lian took a small breath. "Why did Lady Qingyue agree to the betrothal?"
Qingyue did not answer at once.
Outside, Xuan’s sword cut through the air, slow and controlled. The sound gave her a place to look while she arranged her thoughts into something presentable.
"Because I wanted to."
Lian blinked.
Qingyue turned her eyes back to her. "That is an answer."
"It is," Lian said carefully. "But it is not a very long one."
"No."
"Did you want it to be?"
Qingyue studied her.
Lian lowered her head at once. "Forgive me. I spoke too freely."
"You did," Qingyue said.
Lian’s shoulders drew in.
"But not badly," Qingyue added. "Raise your head."
Lian obeyed.
Qingyue folded one sleeve over the other, her face cool again, though her voice had lost some of its distance. "In Yuncheng, I spoke with many people. Most of them saw Frostmoon before they saw me. They saw my father, my sect, my future use in an alliance, or the danger of offending me. Lin Xuan was not free of that. He is not stupid. But when he spoke to me, he did not only speak to Frostmoon."
Lian listened with more care now.
"He noticed things," Qingyue continued. "Small things. The sort people miss when they are busy performing manners. He was strange. Irritating, sometimes. But interesting. When the tournament pressed him, he did not become louder to hide fear. He became more careful. That is rare."
Lian glanced toward the courtyard. "He does that often."
"I know."
"When he is worried, he works."
"Yes."
"When he is hurt, he jokes."
"I noticed that as well."
Lian looked back at her, and for the first time there was something close to open worry in her expression. "It can be difficult."
Qingyue did not dismiss that. She only nodded once. "I imagine so."
"Young Master Xuan is kind," Lian said, as if she had been holding the words for a long time and needed them placed correctly. "But he is not easy. He hides things badly by pretending he is hiding them well. He makes decisions quickly and acts as if the cost can be handled later. He does not ask for help unless someone has already dragged the answer out of him."
Qingyue’s gaze drifted once more to the open doorway.
Xuan was standing in the courtyard, sword lowered, eyes narrowed in concentration at nothing Lian could see. Qi gathered around him, broke, and gathered again.
"That sounds like him," Qingyue said.
Lian looked almost apologetic. "Lady Qingyue asked."
"I did." Qingyue’s mouth curved faintly. "I prefer useful answers."
Lian relaxed by a little.
The room felt different from when Qingyue first entered. Less like a guest chamber being arranged under obligation, more like two girls speaking over folded bedding while pretending the topic was not dangerous to the chest.
Lian moved to the shelf and began placing smaller cloths in order. "May I ask one more thing?"
"You may try."
"Do you like him?"
The question came out faster than Lian intended. Her eyes widened a fraction after saying it, and she looked down so quickly that Qingyue almost laughed.
Qingyue’s expression did not move.
Her ears, unfortunately, had far less discipline.
Heat touched the tips before she could stop it.
Lian saw.
Qingyue saw that she saw.
The room became colder by a degree.
Lian."
"Yes, Lady Qingyue?"
"You saw nothing."
"Of course."
"You are smiling."
"I am folding cloth."
"Badly."
Lian looked down at the perfectly folded cloth in her hands. "...Yes, Lady Qingyue."
Qingyue let the punishment stand there for a breath before answering the question properly.
"Yes," she said. "I like him."
Lian went very quiet.
Qingyue looked toward the courtyard again, and the words came a little more honestly because she did not have to face Lian while speaking them.
"More than is convenient, perhaps. But convenience was never the reason I accepted. I liked speaking with him. I liked that he did not treat me as a cold ornament from Frostmoon. I liked that he could stand in front of trouble and think. And..." She paused, choosing the next part with care. "I liked that when he was afraid of what I might choose, he did not try to choose for me."
Lian’s hands slowed.
"He gave me room," Qingyue said. "That is not common."
Outside, Xuan sneezed again.
Both girls looked toward the courtyard.
Xuan muttered something neither of them heard.
Lian’s smile finally broke free.
Qingyue stared at him through the doorway for a few breaths, the red on her ears refusing to fade as quickly as she wished.
"He has poor timing," she said.
"Yes," Lian replied, very softly.
"But not poor qualities."
"No, Lady Qingyue."
Lian turned back to the bedding, quieter now. When she spoke again, the curiosity had softened into something warmer.
"I hope he treats you well."
Qingyue’s gaze returned to her.
Lian seemed to realize how bold that sounded and hurried on, "I mean... Young Master Xuan. He is good, but he can be careless with himself. Not with others, usually, but with himself. If Lady Qingyue is beside him, I hope he learns not to do that as much."
Qingyue considered the girl in front of her. Lian was not challenging her. Not warning her away. This was a loyalty so simple it could not be dressed up without ruining it.
"You care for him very much," Qingyue said.
Lian lowered her head. "I do."
Qingyue took the folded cloth from her and placed it on the shelf herself. "I would think less of you if you did not."
Lian’s eyes flickered.
"And you do not need to become smaller because I am here," Qingyue added. "You stood beside him during years I never saw. I will not pretend that means nothing."
Lian opened her mouth, closed it, then bowed her head with more care than before. "Thank you, Lady Qingyue."
Qingyue accepted it with a slight nod, because too much softness would have made both of them uncomfortable.
Lian took another cover from the bundle and smoothed it across the bedding. "Then... I hope things go well for both of you."
There it was again. Simple. Young. A little shy. Not grand enough for a banquet blessing, which made it easier to believe.
Qingyue’s ears warmed all over again.
Lian noticed.
Qingyue’s eyes narrowed.
"Lian."
"Yes, Lady Qingyue?"
"If you mention my ears, I will freeze the table before you replace it."
Lian pressed her lips together.
Outside, Xuan’s Qi broke for the third time that morning.
From the courtyard came his voice, low and offended. "Why do I feel mocked?"
Qingyue looked toward him.
Lian finally lost the battle against her smile.
Qingyue turned back to the room, lifted one corner of the bedding with perfect dignity, and said nothing about the color of her ears at all.
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