The next day, Syaoran was presiding over court, listening to reports from his ministers, when the chamber doors burst open.
A soldier stumbled in—panting, disheveled, and pale with panic.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" Syaoran demanded, rising slightly from his throne.
The soldier dropped to his knees, bowing deeply. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. A prisoner… she's escaped from the dungeons."
Syaoran's expression hardened. "Escaped? From this fortress? How?"
The soldier swallowed. "It's a girl, sire. She's… different. We were escorting her for further questioning, but she overpowered the guards and disappeared. Not by force—by something else. Magic, perhaps."
A strange chill passed through Syaoran. His eyes narrowed.
"Mobilize every unit. Search every road, forest, and shadow. Bring her back—alive," he ordered. "I'll deal with her myself."
The soldier bowed and fled.
---
Hours passed.
At dusk, beneath the bleeding sunset, the girl was found.
Fang lay beneath a tree, barely conscious, her breathing shallow. Her clothes were torn. Her strength, gone. She didn't resist when they cast a containment spell and lifted her limp body from the ground.
---
At the palace gates, the search party returned in silence.
One soldier approached Taio. "Sir… we've retrieved the fugitive. She awaits judgment."
Taio nodded grimly and entered the throne room.
"Your Majesty," he announced, bowing low, "the prisoner has been brought."
Syaoran didn't look up from the scroll in his hand. "Let them in."
The massive doors creaked open.
Two soldiers stepped forward, dragging the girl between them. Her head was bowed, her body too weak to stand.
They released her at the foot of the throne with a thud.
Taio's eyes widened in disbelief.
Syaoran's eyes finally lifted—slowly, reluctantly.
The moment they landed on her… everything stilled.
The scroll slipped from his fingers.
Time seemed to stop.
Dust and silence filled the space between them.
There she was—Fang. Her hair tangled, her face pale, her wrists raw from rope. Her small frame trembled with each faint breath.
Syaoran's vision blurred.
His voice dropped low—sharp with emotion. "Leave."
The guards hesitated.
"Leave. All of you." he repeated, voice harder.
The room emptied without another word.
---
Alone now, Syaoran stepped down from the throne.
Each step echoed like thunder in the vast chamber.
He stopped beside her and knelt slowly, breath unsteady.
She lay there—silent, unconscious. Her lips slightly parted, as if trying to speak in her sleep.
His hand hovered inches from her face.
He couldn't bring himself to touch her.
Not yet.
"Fang…" he whispered, his voice cracking, "I found you…"
A tear slipped down his cheek.
"…but at what cost?"