Ruhan reacted on instinct.
His body moved before his mind could catch up. He crossed the distance quickly and clamped a hand over her mouth, pulling her back against the stone edge of the pool.
"It's me," he murmured urgently, breath low and close to her ear. "It's alright. Don't scream."
Lian Zhi's body went rigid beneath his touch. For a split second, he felt the violent thrum of her pulse against his palm, every muscle locked in fear.
Then she blinked up at him through the steam.
"Ruhan?" Her voice was barely audible, trembling in disbelief.
He loosened his grip immediately, though he did not pull away at once. His sharp eyes cautiously scanned the surroundings. Only when he was sure no one else was around did he let go of his hand completely.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was quiet but tense. This place was private. Untouchable. And she should never have been anywhere near it.
"I—I got lost," she stammered. "I saw the steam and thought it was… I didn't know this place was here."
Lost.
Of all places she could have gotten lost, it had to be this one.
"You got lost, and you wandered into the Khan's private hot spring?" He raised his eyebrow.
Her face burned. "I didn't know it was private. Or that it was the Khan's. I just… it looked peaceful." Her voice faded at the end.
Then she frowned, as if something had occurred to her.
"What about you? If this belongs to the Khan, then what are you doing here?"
The question turned neatly back on him. For once, he stalled. He could not tell her the truth. That this place was the only corner of the palace where he could pretend she was not haunting his thoughts.
"I came without permission. The Khan is away. I was curious."
A lie. A thin one.
His tone softened slightly. "You won't tell anyone, right?"
"Only if you won't tell about me," she promised, a faint grin touching her lips.
For a moment, an awkward stillness settled between them.
Then reality caught up to him.
Her hair was damp, clinging to her shoulders. The thin undergarment she wore was soaked through, nearly translucent in the water. Steam curled around her, but not enough to hide everything.
And as for him, he was bare from the waist up, water running down his chest and arms, muscles tense, posture rigid. The steam softened the image, but the fact remained.
He was half-naked.
Lian Zhi's cheeks flamed red. She pressed her arms to her chest, sinking slightly, trying to hide herself under the water.
Ruhan, seeing her obvious panic, turned away quickly. "I—I'm sorry! I didn't—I mean—" His words stumbled as he spoke.
"I'll leave," he said quickly, already moving toward the edge of the pool.
Then he stopped.
He turned his gaze to the side of the pool, where he put his robe. His Khan's robe. He couldn't let Lian Zhi see him leaving with those. That would be trouble.
His expression tightened in frustration. "You should go first."
"Yes. Of course," she agreed far too quickly. She climbed out of the pool, arms wrapped around herself as a shiver ran through her.
Ruhan kept his back turned, until the sharp intake of her breath made him look despite himself. His eyes caught what the steam could not hide.
Bruises.
Faint scratches.
Marks he had tried not to imagine during the nights he forced himself to stay away.
His jaw clenched.
"Wait."
The word left him before restraint could catch it.
"…Does it hurt?"
He already knew the answer.
She hesitated. Then nodded.
Something dark coiled in his chest. Rage. Helplessness. The same guilt that had driven him to send sleeping pills instead of himself.
"Stay," he said before he could stop himself.
"What?" She blinked at him, confused.
"The hot spring helps with healing. It eases the pain," he tried to reason. "You shouldn't leave."
A half-truth. The real reason was simpler.
I can't watch you walk away like this.
His fingers hesitated on the edge of the pool. "I… I mean, I will go." He didn't know how, but he would figure out somehow how to escape without exposing his identity.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You can stay too."
He froze. She noticed.
"I mean, the pool is big enough," she added quickly, pointing at the large stone dividing it. "There's a rock between us. You won't see anything." Then, softer, "And… you look like you need this too."
He did.
More than he wanted to admit.
He had come here to escape the weight of the crown, the endless calculations and schemes. This place was supposed to be empty. Quiet. Safe from her.
Instead, she was here, and the moment he saw her, all the restraint he had built over the past days wavered. Staying away had not made it easier. It had only sharpened the absence.
And her asking him to stay did nothing to help his restraint.
He told himself this was indulgence. A lapse. Just once.
After a long pause, he nodded. "…Very well."
They settled on opposite sides of the stone divider. The rock acted as a barrier, a shield, and yet also a connection. Slowly, the tension began to fade, replaced with something calmer, safer, and quietly warm.
For the first time in days, Ruhan allowed himself to breathe.
"How have you been?" she asked softly, finally breaking the silence. "I haven't seen you in days."
"I was sent away on an errand."
Another lie layered over a truth.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to… serve you." The word tasted wrong even as he said it.
"Serve?" Her voice tightened. "Aren't we friends?"
Friends.
He had tried to convince himself that that was all they could ever be. Tried to make it smaller. Safer.
"You're a princess," he said carefully. "We can't be friends."
"But I want you to be my friend," she said before he could say more. "You're the only one I trust."
His chest tightened.
"I know being near me is dangerous," she continued. "Especially with the Khan. Everyone dislikes me. I wouldn't blame you if you stayed away."
"No."
The answer came too fast.
That simple word betrayed his every resolution for the past few days.
He felt her leaning closer to the stone. "Then… when no one is around, can you be my friend?"
The question struck deeper than it should have. Friendship was a lie he could tell himself, an excuse thin enough to hide behind. He knew this was a mistake. He knew agreeing meant stepping closer to something he could not afford.
And yet, the thought of turning away again felt unbearable.
"…Yes."
He felt it. The easing of something tight and painful in his chest.
For now, this fragile moment, this stolen peace, was enough.
Even if the world demanded distance.
Even if fate demanded cruelty.
For now, he would stay.