Ling realised why she had been so frightened of the change in him. It was surrender she’d seen in his eyes and she couldn’t bear it. Fei Long had only allowed himself to come to her from the edge of defeat.
‘What of your family name?’ she went on. ‘And your home?’
His arms were still wrapped around her, but the warmth between them had drained away. ‘Those things are already lost,’ he said. ‘I won’t lose you as well.’
His hands fell away the moment she pushed at him.
‘My lord.’ The formal address was her shield. She distanced herself physically as well, crawling back away from him. ‘You’ll have us run away, then, like Pearl?’
His expression hardened—his shield. He couldn’t answer her. Even if he were willing to forget everything he held sacred, she couldn’t do it. They would be abandoning Dao and Old Man Liang. The entire household. Fei Long would be abandoning himself.
She knew what kind of man Chang Fei Long was. If she went with him, he would come to resent this decision. In time, he would resent her as well.
He let his hands fall by his sides. Desire still lingered in his eyes. Her own arms were hugged tight around herself, trying to keep her broken spirit from spilling out. For a few reckless heartbeats, she wanted to go with him anyway. If he asked her again, she didn’t know if she could hold back, but Fei Long didn’t ask.
He rose to his feet slowly, straightening his robe. She did the same, turning away from him. Neither of them spoke of it, but they decided to go home on foot with Fei Long leading the horse along by the reins. They didn’t touch as they walked through the criss-cross of city streets.
At one of the main intersections, Yan Ling’s pulse quickened as Fei Long reached for her, but it was only to pull a strand of grass from her hair.
Chapter Twenty
Dao stood beside the open wardrobe, pulling out robes and shawls and scarves in a rainbow of silk. All Yan Ling could do was sit on the bed and stare at the wooden trunk set between them. She was a lady again with embroidered slippers on her feet and jewelled pins in her hair.
‘None of these belong to me,’ Yan Ling protested. She had folded up an armful of robes, but no matter how much she packed away, Dao seemed to produce more.
‘You have to look like a princess when you’re in Khitan. Besides, there’s no one here to wear them either.’
‘You should have them.’
Dao made a dismissive sound, but then she reconsidered. ‘Maybe this one,’ she said, holding up a pink gown with a design of snow-white cherry blossoms.
‘That one looks beautiful on you,’ Yan Ling replied absently.
As far as Dao knew, the day had begun like any other. The interlude at the park had never happened. Fei Long had never asked her to give up everything and go with him. He hadn’t kissed her in a way that made her eyes close and her toes curl.
It was hard to concentrate when all Yan Ling could think of was that she’d made a mistake. Folding the garments was a mindless, routine diversion, but soon the clothes were gone, all packed away, and her mind was left open and wandering.
Dao went to the dressing table while Yan Ling went to gather all the practice papers from her lessons in the study. They were nonsense really, random passages that took on special significance now that the coveted lessons were over. She spotted the sheet where Fei Long had written out her name in a series of perfect tiny strokes. She could still hear the timbre of his voice while he had stood beside her that day.
‘What is this?’ Dao demanded.
Yan Ling jerked her head up to see Dao peering into her sewing box. Quickly, she folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket in her sleeve.
‘Is this supposed to be a tiger?’ Dao held up the pair of felt shoes.
Yan Ling had forgotten about her horrible embroidery work. ‘No, that must be a picture of your father,’ she replied sweetly.
Dao narrowed her eyes. Yan Ling batted hers.
‘They were supposed to be wedding gifts for my barbarian husband. Tigers represent strength and good fortune.’
‘You can’t present these. Khitan will be insulted.’
‘Do you think the slippers might spark a war?’ Yan Ling asked without shame.
Dao did not look amused. Her peach-shaped face scrunched into a frown. ‘Are you trying to