Without further ado, Lorin left his territory that very day and headed straight back to the Royal Capital.

“Why would Xueyi suddenly vanish?”

Naba’s letter hadn’t elaborated much, but those last few lines alone had Lorin on edge.

He *had* told Naba to write if anything happened—he’d try to help.

But he’d never imagined *this*.

All the way back, Lorin urged the carriage driver to hurry. Riding alone on horseback might’ve been faster, but Lorin barely knew how to stay in a saddle.

By the time the Royal Capital’s silhouette appeared, even the driver looked exhausted. Only by rotating drivers had they avoided stopping.

“Finally here,” Lorin murmured, gazing out the window. Relief and tension warred in his chest.

The journey had been a blur of restless naps—dozing off only to jolt awake, checking their progress, then repeating.

Just outside the capital, the Bookkeeper’s voice cut through his thoughts: *“The Bracelet’s glowing.”*

“The Bracelet?” Lorin paused, fumbling it from his robes. Sure enough, it pulsed with a faint light.

This Bracelet was paired with the one he’d given Xueyi. Within range, they resonated.

“Stop!” Lorin called to the driver.

The carriage barely halted before Lorin jumped down, clutching the Bracelet as he scanned the surroundings.

It could only sense proximity, not direction. He’d have to test the pull.

The two drivers exchanged confused glances but stayed silent, watching Lorin’s figure fade into the distance.

At the forest’s edge, Lorin raised the Bracelet and called out, “Xueyi!”

He didn’t know why it reacted here—but if it glowed, her Bracelet *had* to be nearby.

His voice echoed. Then—rustling.

Before Lorin could turn toward the sound, a figure lunged at him.

Too fast to recognize. Too sudden to react.

Arms wrapped around him, pulling him close.

Lorin froze, hands hovering awkwardly.

The figure buried its face against his chest, nuzzling his clothes like a kitten washing its paws.

After a long moment, it lifted its head.

“Xueyi?” Relief and joy flooded Lorin’s voice. He finally lowered his hands to gently ruffle her hair.

Leaves tangled in her hair from her dash through the woods. He carefully plucked them out.

Though only days had passed, Xueyi looked noticeably thinner, frailer.

“How did you end up here?” Lorin’s voice tightened. “Your father wrote that you’d been missing for days.”

If Naba’s letter was truthful, counting the travel time and her disappearance… she’d been gone over a week.

At his question, Xueyi ducked her head again, pressing her cheek against his shoulder—a silent refusal.

Her evasion only sharpened his worry. “Talk to me. What happened?”

Noble letters and Naba’s note hinted at unrest in the capital.

Lorin had dismissed it at first—royal politics didn’t concern him. But Xueyi’s disappearance changed everything.

Sensing his distress, Xueyi whispered, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Nothing? Then why vanish for days?”

Lorin knew Naba must’ve searched desperately before writing to him.

A person doesn’t just disappear.

“You scared me half to death,” he breathed, the tension easing from his shoulders.

“I heard Father and the nobles planning to summon you. Saw him drafting your letter.”

Xueyi clung tighter, her breathing quickening as she inhaled his scent.

“So I knew you’d return. I waited here.”

Naba’s original letter hadn’t mentioned her disappearance. Only when she vanished days later did he add the plea—and now, it seemed, he’d been right to.

“You’ve been waiting *here*? For days?” Disbelief edged Lorin’s voice.

“Mm.” Xueyi nodded, fingers tracing her own Bracelet. This road was the only path to the capital, but timing was pure hope—tied to this glowing thread between them.

“You’re—” Anger flickered in Lorin’s chest. What if he hadn’t come back? Would she have waited forever?

He sighed, pushing it down. She was safe. That was enough. “Let’s go home.”

“Don’t go back!” Xueyi’s grip tightened fiercely.

“The capital?”

“Yes. It’s not safe.” Her expression turned grave. “If you return now… you might be in danger too.”

Baneka was gravely ill. Romon had also fallen ill. Though hushed among nobles, the pattern was clear: this targeted the royal house.

They wanted someone to stabilize the chaos—but without knowing the true threat, they couldn’t guarantee Lorin’s safety.

To Xueyi, it felt like using him as a shield. So she’d vanished. To wait. To stop him.

Lorin glanced at Xueyi, then at the distant capital gates. “But if I don’t return… what about the capital?”

He’d come this far. And Naba’s letter hinted at trouble for the Gret Family too.

Xueyi’s shoulders slumped. She pulled a small pill from her sleeve and placed it on her tongue.

When she loosened her hold, Lorin thought she’d relented.

Then she tilted her head up—

—and kissed him firmly, pushing the pill into his mouth.

Something slid down his throat before he could react.

“Ugh—*cough*—what was that?!” Lorin choked, clutching his neck.

Xueyi stepped back, watching him silently.

The Bookkeeper’s voice cut in: *“A drug. Temporary unconsciousness. Numbs the body.”*

“What?!” Lorin stared at her, bewildered. Why would she—?

Darkness rushed in. His eyelids grew heavy. His legs buckled.

Xueyi caught him before he fell, easing him into her arms.