The morning sun shone over the Royal College, glinting off the polished tiles of the courtyard. Students hurried to their classes, voices echoing, but Li Xian's laughter rose above them all.
He spotted Zhao Han walking alone near the practice yard, his posture as rigid and composed as ever.
"Hey, Zhao Han!" Li Xian called, waving energetically. "Practicing alone again? Don't tell me you're afraid to lose to me today!"
Zhao Han's sharp eyes flicked toward him. "I have better things to do than waste time on childish games."
Li Xian smirked, stepping closer. "Childish? Me? Never! You just don't know how to enjoy your youth… You need to relax, man. Laugh a little!"
Zhao Han said nothing, turning away. Li Xian sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "You're impossible… really, you're going to stay like that forever?"
A shadow flickered across Zhao Han's face — a subtle tension that made Li Xian pause. There was something beneath that icy exterior, a weight he could sense but not yet name.
Later that afternoon, whispers spread through the hallways: Li Xian had received a letter from his kingdom. It was sudden, marked urgent, and bore news that none could have predicted. Li Xian's sisters were to be married — a sudden arrangement, leaving him no time to refuse or even prepare.
Li Xian, who had been practicing sword techniques with friends, noticed the royal seal and frowned. Opening the letter, his expression shifted from curiosity to concern.
"Marriage…? Now? And I wasn't even informed…" he muttered, voice tinged with disbelief. Hesitating for a moment, he glanced toward Zhao Han, who had been quietly observing from a distance. Zhao Han's expression, usually sharp and unreadable, had stiffened — a subtle shift no one else would notice. Inside, feelings stirred: surprise, unease, something almost like worry. But his face remained composed, giving nothing away.
A tug of something new — worry, care, perhaps even a deeper connection — stirred within Li Xian. "This… maybe my youth isn't just about games and laughter," he murmured, sheathing his sword.
That evening, the two princes crossed paths once more. Their eyes met briefly — Li Xian's playful, Zhao Han's cold yet quietly unsettled — yet in that fleeting glance, an unspoken understanding passed between them: their worlds were changing, and soon, their choices would matter more than they ever had before.