To be honest, Chenzhou loses track of how long he stands out on Eirian's balcony, face tilted upwards towards a sun that given its light to the Camelia but not it's warmth.
Honestly, he can't remember the last time he felt warm in the estate. A few times when he was out on campaign and they ended up closer to the border of Song and Snow, but it's not the same. The Camelia is home, but that home has never been warm without the assistance of fire and smothering layers of clothing.
It's never been this bright or clear out either.
At least not as long as Chenzhou has been alive.
He's not the only one who's noticed either. All throughout the estate he can see people gathering outside and along the bridges and walls, congregating together to enjoy the sudden turn in events. Most of them had woken with the horns, expecting the type of emergency that always ended up being a tragedy, but instead they'd gotten the first true summer day most of them had ever seen.
They were messenger birds darting through the air in all directions. The Camelia's leaders frantically trying to figure out what happened, Chenzhou resigned himself to calling an emergency session to explain, but that could at least wait until Eirian had recovered a bit more.
Chenzhou wasn't completely willing to give up the sunshine for the stuffing halls just yet.
The fear he'd felt when he'd first seen the flames and then Eirian unmoving in her bed, hadn't completely faded. His heartrate was still elevated, his palms still clammy, and his nerves rattled. He'd ordered food for Eirian immediately, but she'd made him eat some of it too. She'd made everyone eat, when it was clear they were all planning to stand around staring at her while she did, but only Finn and Captain Li had been capable of eating normally. The rest of them too shaken or too aware of Eirian's condition to keep down more than a few bites.
Behind him, he can hear Finn talking up a storm now that he has a trapped audience in Eirian, who despite a dozen rolls, a pound of bacon and eggs, and nearly an entire pot of broth, still isn't strong enough to get out of bed.
Marian, who'd been forced outside when the fire had first been spotted had finally made her way back in and taken over tending to Chenzhou's wife. Not quite politely assuring Akari that she could handle it.
Yuze had disappeared as soon as Eirian had started eating, neatly avoiding his ex-husband yet again and Akari had left once she'd made it clear she didn't need healing, just food.
At least her color was starting to come back as a third batch of food was delivered from the kitchens. The chef seemed to be going for whatever was in reach, because one of the platters was an entire chocolate cake that was bigger than Eirian's head and another held a stack of sandwiches Chenzhou recognized as the kitchen staff's staple lunch with thick cuts of slow cooked pork, crispy vegetables, and dripping sauce.
Those sandwiches were one of Chenzhou's favorites, and a treat he used to indulge in on days he had to meet with the court.
It had been years since he last had one, but while the site made his mouth water, the thought of trying to eat anymore made him nauseous.
Eirian looks slightly less like a bag of bones now. It's incredible to see the strength and the cost of her magic in real time. There are no written records about the wizards who spent time at the Camelia. There's plenty written about their deeds, about what they did with their magic, but nothing about the men and women they were outside of it.
Even Malbec, who's still considered the great wizard to ever walk the rock, has little written about the man himself.
It's almost a disservice to them, Chenzhou thinks, watching Eirian slowly regain her strength. To only remember one part of a person.
But then again, there are very few people about whom everything is remembered. History had a way of only remember what it thought was relevant, everything else was of little value. Even though everything was usually where the reason for the relevant resided.
History wasn't going to remember why Chenzhou married Eirian, only that he had. Just like it didn't remember why Zhao Li Ling had married, only who. And most people didn't remember her tragic end, because at the end of the day, it didn't matter against the backdrop of history.
Maybe if it had, the Camelia wouldn't be dying. Chenzhou wouldn't have been so desperate that he'd bought a wife unknown from the capital.
The sheer amount of luck that that wife had turned out to be Eirian was unfathomable.
She was a miracle made flesh.
Chenzhou would have to answer for her soon. The King's letter had been clear that he wasn't pleased with the way the marriage had happened, regardless of how Eirian felt about it now and Chenzhou, who's family had bleed for the Empire for two hundreds, was on thin ice.
Chenzhou had no way to fix it, except to stay the course. It was still more than likely that he'd die well before King Jacques Soliel decided to do away with him. Rumors put the king's health nearly as poor as his own anyway, so maybe they were in a race to the finish, and Eirian wouldn't have to deal with either of them for much longer?
Eric Soliel's letter had been more supportive of that possibility, anyway, and he'd made it clear he wasn't going to tolerate Eirian's father's machinations.
Or anyone foolish enough to get involved in them.
Despite the danger. Despite the falling of his family's reputation and favor, Chenzhou couldn't bring himself to regret any of it. There had been no hope for the Camelia before Eirian arrived. And while she was perfectly entitled to sit aside and wait for it all to crumble, she hadn't.
Instead, she was turning her attention to fixing it. To destroying the poison and whoever was left that had created it, because Chenzhou had no doubt that if Eirian found out there were survivors still feeding it, there would be blood.
For the first time in decades, the sun was shining down on the Camelia.
~ tbc