Pulling their laced fingers close, Mingjue kisses the back of Xichen's hand. "That's why I couldn't say anything. Not in my past or in my future."

He lets out his breath. He'd never shied away from saying difficult things and if there was anything Xichen deserved—after watching Mingjue die—it was the truth.

"Xichen." Another breath for fortitude. "If I thought I could say something, I would have. You need to know that. I would have."