Chapter 43
The celebration in the palace was grand, as expected after a victorious war. The great hall was filled with noblemen, warriors, and maids serving trays of the finest wine and dishes. Laughter and music echoed through the space, yet Ping found herself lost in thought.
She sat beside Ling at the royal table, but her mind was elsewhere. Her eyes occasionally drifted toward Xia, who was deep in conversation with Jian. Though the warrior remained as composed as ever, Xia's laughter and playful smirks made it clear that she was enjoying herself.
Ping tried not to let it bother her. Ling had reassured her, yet the doubt still lingered somewhere in her heart.
"Are you planning to eat, or will you continue glaring at Xia all night?" Ling's deep voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Ping blinked and turned to him. His golden eyes were filled with amusement, a small smirk playing on his lips.
"I'm not glaring," she muttered, quickly picking up her chopsticks.
Ling chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. "You forget, my queen, that I know you well by now."
Ping felt her cheeks warm. "I was just thinking," she defended.
"About?" he pressed.
She hesitated before shaking her head. "It's nothing."
Ling didn't push further, but his knowing gaze told her he wasn't convinced.
As the night continued, guests raised their cups in honor of the victory. Jian stood and bowed to Ling. "Your Majesty, now that the war is over, what are your next plans?"
Ling rested his chin on his knuckles, looking thoughtful. "For now, I want peace to settle in Mora. Our people deserve it."
Xia leaned forward. "And what about the king of Ryuu? He managed to escape."
Ling's expression darkened slightly. "He's wounded and has lost most of his allies. He won't be foolish enough to strike again anytime soon."
Xia smirked. "Still, we should remain cautious."
Ling nodded. "We will."
Ping listened quietly. She admired how calm and strong Ling remained despite everything. Yet, she couldn't forget the image of him suffering under the full moon—the scar Yuchen left behind still a danger to him.
The celebration lasted late into the night, but Ping excused herself early. She wandered out to the royal gardens, seeking fresh air. The cool breeze brushed against her skin, easing the tension she hadn't realized she was holding.
"Leaving the celebration so soon?"
Ping turned to find Ling standing behind her. His long white hair was slightly tousled from the night's activities, and he looked effortlessly regal under the moonlight.
"I needed some air," she admitted.
Ling stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. "What's troubling you?"
She hesitated before softly saying, "Your wound… The full moon will come again soon. What if—"
Ling sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I won't let it consume me."
"But you don't know that," she whispered, voice trembling. "What if one day, the pain is too much?"
Ling exhaled, then gently pulled her into his arms. Ping stiffened at first, but his warmth was comforting.
"I am not so easily broken, my queen," he murmured.
Ping clutched his robe, closing her eyes. "Then promise me… promise me you'll always fight to stay alive."
Ling leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead. "I promise."
And for the first time that night, Ping allowed herself to believe him.