Blind and Bereft

Chapter 34 | Ashes of Memories

Jingrui sat still, no tears stained her cheeks, and she didn't know whether she was speaking, or simply replaying the flashes of the past in her mind. Her head throbbed with dizziness, and she clutched her dark hair into a fist, trying to ease the pain.

She would have felt the cold corrode her insides if it were not for Prince Zhanying's warmth beside her, keeping her company.

No one had ever kept Jingrui company.

His eyes were as cool as the night, and as motionless as the wind. And although he didn't speak to her, she was glad he didn't leave her side.

She didn't know whether she was dreaming at that moment when his thumb brushed across her cheek. The jade ring on his thumb was cool against her skin, but his touch was warm—so warm, she didn't know why she had ever thought him cold.

As she looked up at him, he held a warmth similar to her master. Although his touch wasn't as gentle nor did his eyes hold any emotions, she was comforted. If she felt this comforted, then it must have been a dream. She had been having never-ending nightmares about the faithful night her master saved her from those terrible men. It was a relief to, once in a while, be in a dream.

Since it was a dream, she smiled and clasped her hand over his. "But Sister, Master, and Senior told me to be happy, so I will never let all those sad things get to me."

With that, she pushed herself to stand. Her posture was slack, and her steps were unbalanced.

Dizziness lanced through her head, and she hit it, trying to clear the clouds in her mind. Walking towards her room, she stumbled over, and an arm caught her. The sweet scent of Nag Champa filled the space between them, and she felt warm. She smiled again.

What a pretty dream she was having.

"So where is your sister?" The man, her hazy vision could no longer recognise, asked.

"Dead," she told him in a slumbering voice.

"Your Master?"

"Dead. . ."

"Senior?"

"Don't know. . ." Obsidian took over her vision, and her head fell heavily upon the man's chest. All she could think of was how warm he was and how sweet he smelt. There was no more nightmare as she leapt into the darkness. Everything that had been suppressed within her like a closed bottle had been released, and her face filled up with peace.

The peace lasted a long time, and Jingrui woke up again when she heard a loud sound of a spoon hitting against a bowl. She groaned as she pushed herself to sit up. Her whole body ached, and her head jabbed with pain. When she tried to speak, no sound came out. Only an airy breath scraped up her dry throat.

Jingrui scoffed, flexing her sore neck and trying to recall what had happened to leave her battered up.

She remembered meeting her father and coming back to the inn for wine to comfort herself. But she was in the veranda, how did she get back to the bed?

She glanced over to the floor table, and her eyes widened when she saw Prince Zhanying. He looked as dashing as usual, but his hair had messily fallen over his face, and his forehead was dabbled with sweat. A light flared from his fingertips as he concentrated it into a bowl of soup. At last, he let the light vanish and deeply inhaled to stabilise the energy in the air.

"You are awake?" he asked her, and before she could answer him, he stood up with the bowl of soup in his hand. Almost spilling over the contents, he shucked her the bowl.

Jingrui hesitated before accepting it. The bowl was filled with a strange-coloured soup, murky like a puddle. "What . . . is this, Your Highness?"

"Sobering soup," Prince Zhanying said while coercing her with his cool gaze. "Drink it all up."