The morning of Princess Ming's departure arrived too bright and too ordinary for what it was about to hold.
The courtyard swarmed with the usual chaos of a royal procession — trunks being loaded, horses stamping at the cold, guards from Xilan lined up in their pale blue uniforms with the kind of discipline that made Yuan's chest tight for reasons he couldn't fully name. Jian stood near the front of it all, formally dressed, exchanging the last careful diplomacies with Ming's escort, entirely absorbed in the business of a proper royal farewell. Lei lingered nearby, ostensibly assisting, actually — Yuan suspected, watching him watch the crowd — keeping a careful eye on Minister Cao, who had appeared to see the princess off with an expression of perfectly ordinary courtesy that fooled absolutely no one who'd been at the banquet three nights before.
