They stood facing each other in the corridor, separated by a stretch of lantern light and falling snow.
Inside the halls, laughter and music continued, but out here, it was as if the world had been muted.
Prince Kang's gaze lingered on the corner of her eye for a brief instant—then moved away, as if he'd noticed the mark there once before.
Mo Lixia didn't know what to say, so she said nothing.
The prince spoke first. "Your brother's wedding is lively."
"It is," Mo Lixia replied politely.
A pause.
Then he asked, seemingly casually, "How is your fragrance shop?"
Mo Lixia didn't expect him to know that, and she couldn't help a flicker of surprise. "It's… doing well."
"That's good."
Another pause.
The prince's tone remained mild, but there was a faint pressure beneath it, like a hand resting lightly on your throat—gentle, yet impossible to ignore.
Mo Lixia lowered her lashes. "If Your Highness has no other instructions, I should return. The inner courtyard is busy."
Prince Kang did not stop her, but his voice followed her. "Your soap—when you begin selling it, send me a piece."
Mo Lixia's steps faltered for the briefest moment.
"…Yes, Your Highness."
Only after she walked away did she realize her fingers had gone cold.
She had never understood him—his mask, his silence, the way his presence seemed to press against her life even when he spoke so little.
And yet, some part of her felt that he was watching her far more closely than he should.
Back in the banquet hall, the warmth hit her like a wave. She forced herself to smile, to blend back into the crowd, as if the corridor hadn't happened at all.