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She returns to consciousness engulfed inside a nest of furs that used to smell like Qi Yan. Only the ghost of their scent lingers still amidst the soft pelts, tucked under the bright red of fox skins, the golden brown of bear coats and the deep black of wolf furs.

The bed furs are all gifts from Nangong Jingnu. She fancied herself quite the magnamious patroness to bring back her catches to the unfortunate scholar too weak to partake in the hunts. In reality, she behaved like a dog dragging back the corpses of its preys to its master in the hope of earning an approving pat on the head. What a pathetic show it had been. Qi Yan must have laughed so much at her under that kind smile of theirs while she kept embarrassing herself showing off her mediocre skills to the best hunter of the fae folk.

Despite knowing the futility of her endeavor, Nangong Jingnu cannot stop herself from burying her nose deep into the bed to grasp a glimpse of them. This is not the first time she wakes in Qi Yan's old bed without recalling how she got there at all, a headache pounding under her skull and a heartache throbbing inside her chest. This is the first time however that the scent of fae blood instead of alcohol crawls out her mouth when she lets out a gasp.

She forces herself to rise from her grave of a bed. Her entire body aches like a bruise under her blood-stained armor. Death came tantalizingly close to catch her last night. Nangong Jingnu can feel its cold, putrid breath under her skin.

How rude of it to tease her so without delivering the finishing blow Nangong Jingnu craved for.

Evening light pours out of the window, casting golden drapes over Qi Yan's study, just like it used to before Nangong Jingnu's life went down in flames. She cannot say how much time she has spent there, either reading with Qi Yan, playing chess, or simply looking at them work. There is no word that can properly convey how beautiful they looked when they practiced calligraphy under the evening light. Nangong Jingnu, who has a tragically limited attention span, never got bored of sitting quietly in those blessed moments, so removed from the chaos of the Court.

She lost so many hours watching Qi Yan, admiring the elegance of their writing, the glow of their skin, the peacefulness of their smile. She was staring constantly, searching for signs of a relapse, hints of masked uncomfort, or a glimpse of their affection.

She watched, she looked, she stared, and yet she never saw them. For all Nangong Jingnu knows, they were plotting yet another scheme to kill her siblings while she glazed adoringly upon them, instead of the complicated scholarly matters she assumed they were working on.

The room, after five years, remains untouched by anything but time and Nangong Jingnu's occasional drunk fumblings, as if its owner had never left. Every item, every gift, every memento of Qi Yan has been preserved in its tomb. The numerous books, scrolls and calligraphy sets keep on waiting for the return of their master by their desk. The priceless clothes, made of the finest materials, are still in their ebony and gold chests.

It was, objectively speaking, one of the most beautiful and well-furnished rooms in the palace. An impressive feat for a supposedly human-raised Fae who joined the Seelie Court by being sold into it.

She should have set it on fire a long time ago, the way Qi Yan set her life on fire before leaving. She would set it on fire, if she could find the strength to do so. Perhaps her grief, her betrayal, and that disgusting love clinging to her still would burn as well.

The floor feels unpalatable to her when she presses her feet on it. This pain, real, paltry, easily manageable, is almost a welcome addition to the list of Nangong Jingnu's griefs against Qiyan Agula. She takes one step, then another, another, another, until she reaches the door and walks out of the hell of her own making.

"Your Majesty," two voices say in unison.

The title echoes inside her skull. It's heavy, that Majesty, too heavy, too edgy, too unfamiliar. Years after her coronation, it still doesn't quite fit her frame. But in the end, it's merely another word among others she is forced to accept as her own. She's used to live under those.

"What are you doing here?" She croaks to the two prostrated fae. "Don't you have better things to do than to wait for me to scold me like scorned spouses?"

Nangong Jingnu can only wonder how long they have been kneeling like this. The access to Qi Yan's bedroom has been strictly forbidden for anyone but herself, and her lack of tolerance when it comes to her former favorite is well known. Even the people closest to her don't dare cross that line.

"Your majesty is injured," Commander Gongyang Huai says, his forehead pressed to the floor. "This subject humbly begs your majesty to let herself be attended by our healers!"

"I'll survive." Nangong Jingnu's smile is a grim, twisted thing. "Is er-jie also here to nag at me about paper cuts?"

Nangong Shunu doesn't move an inch from her position, practically identical to Gaongyang Huai's. As one of the previous King's least favored children, Nangong Jingnu's sister never saw herself as someone worthy of royal pride. It's an habit she has yet to break out of, despite the fact she does have the favor of her monarch now.

"It would bring this er-jie endless relief if your majesty accepted to be checked up," she says softly, her tone as soothing as tranquil water, "but his one knows her majesty's temper too well to hope to convince her to do anything she doesn't want to."

A laugh escapes Nangong Jingnu's throat at the delicate call out. That's such a Nangong Shunu thing to say. "Then what's the purpose of your presence here?"

"This one wishes to congratulate your majesty on her victory."

Victory. What a strange concept. For five years their land has been ripping itself apart, countless lives, seelie and unseelie alike, have been lost to the conflit. Such are the ways of her people, but the spoilt princess she used to be had never been confronted to the visceral violence of their kind before.

And now, fae blood covering her from head to toe, she has won. She has fought the unseelie rebels and prevailed. She has cut off heads, gutted bellies, burned skins to a crisp. She has defeated the Unseelie King in combat.

She doesn't feel like a victor in the least.

"Congratulations received. What else?"

Nangong Shunu remains silent, reluctant to voice her concerns.

"Speak up," Nangong Jingnu snaps. "I already know what you want to ask anyway."

It's written all over her. Nangong Jingnu is so used to her sister tiptoeing around her when the topic of Qiyan Agula comes up it's impossible to miss.

"...Her majesty please forgive, this one cannot help wondering what your majesty's intentions regarding the Unseelie King are."

Gongyang Huai immediately tenses. If anyone understands the dilemma knotting Nangong Jingnu's heart into a mess, it would be the Commander. Aside from the stupid princess who sheltered them from suspicion for decades, there is no one that has been more fooled by Qiyan Agula than him.

"I haven't decided yet," Nangong Jingnu drawls out. She barely had the time to process the reality of Qiyan Agula finally being at her mercy. Decisions seem such a faraway concept right now. "What does er-jie suggest?"

Nangong Shunu stays as still as stone. "This insignificant princess dares not suggest anything of this magnitude to your majesty."

"You think I should execute them."

Nangong Jingnu's mind is in shambles. She scarcely remembers the end of the battle, and what followed. She remembers the blood flowing and reeking in the air, the corpses covering the grass, the distant sounds of a forest screaming.

She remembers the Unseelie King, a feral, savage creature, yet smarter than anyone else, tearing her soldiers apart. Those golden eyes of theirs set into a familiar face that wasn't quite fae nor quite wolf, but something in-between. The legendary wolf blood of the Chengli unseelie royal clan.

She remembers she lost her mind, and then nothing. Only blurry flashes remain afterwards. Of her stabbing the Unseelie King in the heart, of their troops retreating under Guqi Bayin's command, of sobbing tears of blood over Qi Yan's deeply wounded chest and clawing new injuries in their skin.

She vaguely remembers dragging their body through the forest, all the way from the battlefield to the Seelie Court. Anyone who tried to stop or assist her would be growled at and risk their body integrity. Her people quickly got the message and opened the way for her without approaching, watching silently as the Seelie Queen dragged her enemy the Unseelie King by the neck.

Her last memory is when she ordered the jailer to keep them alive at all cost, or she'll have their head.

"There is no need to take a hasty decision," Gongyang Huao argues. "They are locked up in our cell and-"

"Pardon my bold words," Nangong Shunu cuts in without looking at Nangong Jingu, "but the Unseelie King is crafty and wicked, and their magic uncontrollable. Her majesty knows this better than anyone. They are a master of manipulation. To keep them alive is to allow the risk of them escaping."

Crafty and wicked is the least of it. Who else would have pretended to be a hapless changeling for decades in order to turn Nangong Jingnu's siblings against one another and sic them on each other like dogs, right under Nangong Jingnu's nose?

Ah, but Nangong Jignu thought they were so pitiful when they knelt in the middle of the Court in human clothing, looking terrified and lost. Poor changeling who learnt about their inheritance so cruelly, only to be thrown at their own kin like an amusing toy. Poor fae, raised as a human but cursed to be of their blood, sold to the Seelie Court for the sake of the King's favor. Poor, weak, sick little scholar, who would never survive the Summer Court unless someone powerful took them under their wing… Someone like Nangong Jingnu.

"With all due respects to the princess, our prison is the safest of the realm. There is nothing they can do now. This one begs your majesty not to rush your decision."

"With all due respects to the commander, it might be advisable for him not to be heard speaking up for the traitor in public," Nangong Shunu says midly. "Some might say his previous affiliations cloud his judgement."

Gongyang Huai takes a deep breath. This is not the first time he heard comments on his disloyalty to the Seelie Court. Softly, he retorts: "I wouldn't let such hearsay get to her highness' head. Some might say past grudges cloud her judgement, but I would never believe such nonsense."

If looks could kill, Gongyang Huai would be bleeding out to death on the floor, and then Nangong Jingnu would have to replace him with someone who doesn't share her unhealthy obsession with Qi Yan.

"You're talking about the criminal who killed my brothers and father," Nangong Shunu says, stone-faced.

Except they didn't, did they? In the end, their brothers got their brothers killed. Qiyan Agula only pushed them toward it and provided the means, but they chose to slaughter each other for the throne.

As for the King… Nangong Jingnu grew up with the comforting story of her father defending their Court against a traitorous unseelie attack, and bravely defeating the Chengli royal clan in fair combat. She grew up with the utter conviction unseelies were savage, evil creatures controlled by their bloodthirsty instincts, that had to be restrained for the safety of everyone involved. She grew up being told they were in the right here.

It was… an unpleasant and eye opening experience to find out that the truth wasn't nearly as simple as she thought.

"Enough. Enough. I can't think with the two of you hounding me."

Gongyang Huai blinks up, alarmed. "The healer-"

"I don't need a healer," she says as she walks away. "I need time to think on my own. You're dismissed."

After five years of war, five years of mourning, five years of licking the wounds Qiyan Agula inflicted to their Court for decades, the palace seems to have finally stirred back to life. Nangong Jingnu wanders through the echoes of celebrations erupting all over the place absent-mindedly. Her people kneel as she breezes by, sharing congratulations and praises.

Nangong Jingnu scarcely pays attention to anything, too distracted by the knowledge of what is locked up underneath the castle's continued existence. It won't be the first time Qi Yan takes so much space in Nangong Jingu's head there is no room left for anything else. They sneaked inside the place slowly, so slowly Nangong Jingnu didn't notice the intrusion until it was too late.

Humans, Qi Yan had once explained to her, forgot easily. Their lives were too short to hold on to feelings for too long. Their love, their hatred, their rage, their joy, their sorrow, it all washes away with time eventually. Time heals every wound, one of their sayings goes.

Such fickleness seems utterly foreign to Nangong Jingnu. Fae are creatures of absolutes and forevers. Their hearts are frozen, dangerous fortresses, but if a feeling manages to grow in there nonetheless, despite the cold and the thorns, it becomes part of them, crafted inside their very nature.

And loss, oh loss is a gaping, purulent wound that never heals, not by anything, certainly not thanks to indifferent time. The ache remains within them always, fresh and tender like the first day, and the infection never stops hurting.

This ugly, disgusting love is as much Nangong Jingnu's as her quick temper, her filial devotion and her dutifulness toward her people. It is who she is, and it will never go away. They will never go away. They'll keep on living inside Nangong Jingnu's decaying heart rent free for as long as it beats, no matter what happens to their body.

She only notices her feet have directed her downstairs when she is already deep into the bowels of the castle, where no light survives the rampant darkness and no scream crawls out of the heavy coffin of pure, raw silence. The celebration seems so far away from this pit, an echo so distant it might as well be a dream.

She should return upstairs. She should be with her family and her people. She should party with them, drink until her thoughts are only made of merry stars and hazy mists, laugh until the sob in her throat suffocates, dance until her feet forget the steps of slaughter.

She should, at the very least, find Quiju, Nangong Jingnu's oldest and most trusted servant, and allow her to run her magic on her. At that point, Quiju has mastered the art of building back the glamor of a Queen out of the scraps of the mourning daughter, the bloodthirsty warrior and the betrayed fool. She has scrubbed the gore of her mistress' skin and soothed her nightmares countless times before, she has suffered through her temper and her paranoia, and she has not abandoned Nangong Jingnu's side.

But even Quiju cannot cleanse Nangong Jingnu's rotting heart of Qiyan Agula's spell. There is no escape, no running away from them. There is only delaying the inevitable, and Nangong Jingnu is tired of delaying.

The Seelie Court's dungeon is an inhospitable, unforgiving, desolate place for a fae. Iron and spells alike are woven inside its cold stone walls, in order to make the cells as toxic as possible and completely isolated from the forest. The air itself smells like dry misery, not unlike the scent of human blood. It leaves a burning trail on its way in and out of her lungs.

Only the most dangerous criminals of their kind are kept down there. A poisonous prison for poisonous fae.

"Your majesty," the jailer kneels at her entrance.

Nangong Jingnu nods at him. The jailer, gray of skin and grim of face, is an ancient fae, perhaps as old as those walls. By now, he is so attuned to the corrosive atmosphere he might as well be part of the furniture. To him, she's merely another ruler among others. She might be in charge for now, but she most likely won't outlast him, nor the dungeon.

She's just passing by while he remains, frozen in a living tomb, untouched by time.

"I'm here to see the prisoner. The Unseelie King," she precises, feeling quite silly.

He nods and raises on his feet, gesturing at her to follow him.

In the end, she may not have needed the jailer to guide her. There is a thrum in the air carrying through the heaviness of the prison. The distant echo of a wordless song tugs on her strings, until she reaches the door pretending to contain the fae that has single handedly destroyed her father's court. She closes her eyes and allows her head to rest on the cold oak wood.

How many times has she heard that song before? She would rest her head on Qi Yan's lap after yet another feud with her siblings, and they would brush her hair for hours. Their humming would set her scattered thoughts back in order and soothes her unrest. Her heart, however, would always get so agitated afterwards, but that never stopped her anyway.

How vulnerable Nangong Jingnu was back then. She let the fae who could enthrall the wildest beasts to fight for them sing her to sleep for years. It would be so easy to tell herself her conduct was only the product of Qi Yan's enchantments, but she knew the truth.

Qi Yan didn't need magic to twist Nangong Jingnu around their finger.

"Your Majesty?" a whisper slants through the door.

She straightens at the call. Already she feels herself melt, ache, mellow down. Fortunately, her anger hasn't left her yet. It has supported her for so long, it has kept her resolve iron hard and her determination fire hot, it has fueled the Seelie Queen at the expense of Nangong Jingnu.

She needs to be the Seelie Queen for this. Nangong Jingnu has proven herself too weak to handle their manipulation.

And so the Seelie Queen enters the Unseelie King' cell, expressionless failing to be heartless.

She finds a prisoner tied to the wall with iron and spells, their deceptively frail body marked by half-healed wounds. The wolf has retreated within, leaving the scholar to fend for themselves. Of the beast only the golden eyes remain, as vivacious as ever. The body might be bound, but the mind clearly has yet to be broken.

They have the nerve to smile at her. "Your majesty has come to see this subject. I am honored by your majesty's visit."

"Subject?" She sneers, unable to stop herself from playing their game. "You were never a subject of mine."

They tilt their head to the side. "I'll admit I have been remiss in my duties recently. I hope your majesty can find it within herself to forgive my absence. External circumstances forced my hand and kept me away from her for too many years."

"You!"

She promised herself she would stay calm and collected, indifferent and aloof, but already she is losing to them. She was always the tempestuous one between the two of them. It was only when their treachery was revealed in fire and in blood that she understood how deep their resentment went.

The crescents of her nails bury into the flesh of her palm. Through pain, she reclaims her voice.

"Unseelie King."

"That's me," Qiyan Agula concedes in an infuriatingly agreeable tone.

"You are guilty of treason against the fae people," she flatly declares. "You have thrown our land in civil war for the sake of your ambitions. What do you have to say for yourself?"

They meet her fury with cold, practical patience. Nangong Jingnu is reminded of the long hours they would dedicate to her teaching, of their never ending kindness in guiding their foolish mistress toward knowledge and wisdom.

She already knows she can't trust her heart. But she might not be able to trust her mind either. The very foundations of her thinking process are tainted with Qi Yan's words, Qi Yan's opinions, Qi Yan's lessons.

They say, too softly: "Is it treason if the fae people, as you say, betrayed us first? What loyalty should I own to the people who slaughtered my family for power and enslaved my kind? I haven't betrayed the seelie people because they never had any right to my loyalty in the first place. Civil war was brewing long before I intervened, and it would have happened with or without me. Your majesty knows me too well to believe I would apologize for that."

"Know?" Nangong Jingnu laughs bitterly, cutting herself over the shards of her own sad mirth. "Clearly I never knew you at all."

She thought she did. She thought she understood Qi Yan because she knew how they like their tea, she knew the lines of their face when they slept, she knew their sighs and their laughs and their tears.

Turned out she didn't know anything.

"I believe your majesty knows me better than anyone else. I'll only plead guilty for deceiving your majesty," they add with a hint of genuine remorse. "That is a crime I do deserve death for."

"Don't go pretending you care for me now," Nangong Jingnu snarls.

"If I didn't, your majesty would be long dead and we wouldn't be in this situation, would we?"

The question has haunted her for years. Why had Qiyan Agula not killed her? They needed her in the beginning, that's for certain, but after a while Nangong Jingnu became more an hindrance to their plans than anything. They could have killed her so easily. Nangong Jingnu trusted her scholar so blindly she wouldn't have suspected a thing.

Instead, they carved her way toward the throne. They quietly destroyed her opponents without anyone being the wiser. They waited for her coronation to act, despite the fact Nangong Jingnu might not have been able to unite the court against the enemy if they hadn't.

If Qiyan Agula hadn't taught her how to fight back against them, there is a very good chance the Seelie Court would have fallen to the unseelie rebellion.

"You could have escaped. At the battle. You could have escaped."

"I couldn't. Her majesty was there," Qiyan Agula says. "How could I run away from her again? One time was enough."

Realization drops in her belly like a stone. "You let me capture you."

Qiyan Agula shakes their head. Their smile has no mercy for anyone, least of all themselves. "Your majesty defeated me by her own right. She was absolutely magnificent in battle. It was an honor to be bested by her might."

"Because you made me this way!"

The Nangong Jingnu of before wouldn't know the rush of combat, the thrill of victory, the despair of loss. She wouldn't know what a Fae's insides look like. She wouldn't even have thought to sit on her father's throne.

"I may have shown you the way to greatness," they point out gently, "but you're the one who walked on it, your majesty."

There were no choices there. She wanted so badly to earn Qi Yan's approval, to win over their esteem and their affection, that she would have done anything. What other options did she have but to crawl on the path Qiyan Agula carved for her?

"That's how we unseelie show our love. By teaching our beloved how to tear us apart."

"You unseelie are messed up," she croaks.

"I can't deny that," they agree with unbearable kindness. " No matter. What is done is done. There is only one question that matters anymore."

"What?" She can't help herself from asking.

Qiyan Agula's eyes open like a void. Nangong Jingnu stumbles inside.

"What will your majesty do now?"