Page 114 of The Cinders

‘Song Lim.’The way he said it, breathing it like a prayer, took Lim aback.‘You’re alive.’

‘I am.Thanks to you…and…’ He stopped.‘Thanks to you.’

Xian lifted his head, and his straw-snagged hair fell away from his face.He had smears of soot on his forehead, his lips were dry and cracked, the shadows beneath his violet eyes deep, but never a finer man had Lim seen.

‘Song Lim.’Xian reached for him, and Lim grabbed at his hand greedily, wrapping it between both of his own.

‘Are you all right, Xian?’

‘I think so…yes…but what of you?You were struck by something, I tried to avoid it…but then you went so still as I carried…’ His lips twisted, catching whatever words he’d been about to speak.‘Were you hurt?’

‘I’m fine, I’m alive.In need of ten baths and I’ll be throwing out these clothes…but fine.Xian…what you did…it was…’ He searched for the words, needing to make them perfect.

Xian glanced down shyly.‘Oh gods!My clothes.’One hand flew to cover himself between the legs, the other arm crossing his body; a hopeless attempt to hide.

‘Damn it, I forgot!I’m so sorry.’He lunged for the curtain.‘It’s alright, I saw nothing.I promise you.Here.’He handed Xian the length of hemp, and the prince grabbed at it like a starved man finding rice.‘There’s rope over here…we can fashion it well enough to cover you.I promise.Then I’ll find you something decent to wear.’He dashed to the stack of boxes he’d propped himself against earlier, recalling the harsh scratch of rope beneath his hands.

‘How long have I been lying here like this?’Xian’s distress lifted his voice.

‘Only a few minutes, I promise you.’Lim quickly untied the rope that had been wrapped around the handle of one of the boxes to provide grip.He walked backwards gingerly; holding out the rope behind him.‘Here, take this to tie it to you.It is pitch dark anyway.The shadows keep you well hidden.’

In truth, it was dark, but not blindly so, and Lim had definitely noticed the swell of Xian’s arse, the curve of his lower back, and dip of his waist.

Xian took the offered rope, and Lim waited while an emperor’s son dressed himself in dirty cloth and frayed rope.Those faint cries he’d heard still continued; crowds celebrating…or screaming as their houses burned.He couldn’t care less which it was; and only hoped Chen knew he’d lost everything in the blaze.He deserved nothing less.

‘Xian,’ he whispered.‘You know you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘You said you saw nothing!’

‘Well I saw you of course, just nothing that might embarrass you.’

‘Please don’t say anymore.’The prince made soft sounds of discomfort as he wrapped himself in the curtain.

‘Very well.’Lim peered down at his tattered clothing.It was not only the prince who needed proper dressing.‘Can I help you?’

There was a long pause.‘Why aren’t you afraid.’

‘Afraid?’

‘Of me…of what you must have seen, Lim.’Xian’s uncertainty was heart-wrenching.

Lim was wary, yes.Confounded, absolutely.Frightened of this man, this fox spirit?No.

‘I have no fear of you, Xian, only of what this all means…for you.Did it hurt you…becoming the fox?And changing back?’

‘You can turn around now.’

Lim wasted no time.He spun on his heels; quietly marvelling that his straw sandals had survived everything he’d endured.

Xian stood wrapped in the curtain, the rope encircling him above his breast but held undone in his hand.His shoulders were bare, his hair wildly mussed, his face wonderfully uncovered.

‘Goddess of Mercy, you are beautiful,’ Lim breathed.

Xian ducked his head, letting his hair hide him away.‘Could you help me?I cannot tie the rope without letting go of the material.’

‘Of course.’

Lim covered the short distance between them in two great strides.Brushing Xian’s hand as he took the rope.