The rain followed us out of the mountains.

By nightfall, the caravan had dwindled to half its guards, the rest were sent ahead under some quiet pretense. The road became mud and shadow. The mist that once looked graceful from the Court now clung to our faces, cold and sour.

We made camp by the remains of an old watchtower. No banners, no servants, just three of us and the slow crackle of a reluctant fire.

Ya Zhen sat beneath the crumbling arch, reading by lamplight. Her robes were no longer crimson but plain gray, still too fine for exile. She hadn’t spoken since sunset.

Ji Ming stripped off his gauntlets and fed the fire. “We’ll need to move at first light. The chief envoy’s men will follow until they’re certain we’re not coming back.”

“They’ll follow longer than that,” she murmured without looking up. “Men like Lord Wen never believe what they’re told. They believe what they fear.”

A soft wind stirred. The smoke twisted sideways, carrying the scent of wet stone.

“Tell us the truth,” I said. “Why the border? And why bring us?”

Ya Zhen closed her scroll, slow and deliberate. “Because the Emperor’s new weapon will not be tested in the Court. It will be tested where no one can see.”

Her gaze lifted to mine… cold and calm. “And because if the bond can destroy, I need to see how far it reaches before they do.”

Ji Ming’s hand froze above the fire. “You mean to use us?”

“I mean to keep you alive long enough to choose your own use.”

The rain outside softened to a hiss. For a moment, none of us spoke.

Later, when Ya Zhen finally slept, Ji Ming sat beside the dying fire. “The way she said that…” he murmured. “Like she’s not sure we’ll survive what’s coming.”

I watched the embers fade. “Maybe she isn’t.”

He turned toward me, eyes reflecting the last sparks of the flame. “Then we stop waiting for the Court’s mercy. We have make our own way”

The bond pulsed faintly, not bright, but steady. Beyond the rain, a lantern swayed in the wind, its light trembling, unbroken.