The bluestone slabs of the observatory were soaked cold by the night wind, and the dew meandered along the carved patterns of the white marble railings, forming a small silvery puddle at He Qian's feet. When he lowered his eyes, he could see his own reflection in the water - the silver threads embroidered on the corners of the black prince's python robe were heated by the starlight, and his once slightly thin jawline was now sharp and angular. What was beating deep in his eyes was no longer the embarrassment and vigilance when he first entered the cold palace, but the steady light like a pulsar coming from the core of the Source Star.
