Old Shen found his granddaughter in the garden, sitting on a stone bench, staring at the hairpin in her palm.
"Still nervous?"
Shen Miao looked up. Her grandfather's face was weathered but kind. She scooted over, and he sat beside her.
"I don't know why," she admitted. "It's just a banquet."
"It's the princess's banquet," Old Shen corrected gently. "And you are the daughter of two generals. People will watch you. Judge you. Compare you to your mother."
Shen Miao's fingers tightened around the hairpin.
"Your mother," Old Shen continued, "was not born to nobility. She earned her place through courage and loyalty. The princess knew that. That's why they were friends." He paused. "You don't have to be her. You just have to be yourself."
"And if myself isn't enough?"
Old Shen laughed—a low, warm sound. "You brought your brother back from the dead, child. I think you'll manage."
Shen Miao blushed. But she smiled.
She tucked the hairpin into her sleeve and stood.
"I should finish getting ready."
Old Shen nodded. "Go. And child—"
She turned.
"Watch out for your cousin. Shen Yiyi has never liked you. Tonight, she'll have an audience."
Shen Miao's smile faded. She nodded once, then walked back toward the house.
Old Shen watched her go, his hands folded over his walking stick.
*They look like their parents,* he thought. *Gods protect them.*
---
Shen Yao found her in the corridor, just before sunset.
She was wearing the pale jade robe, her hair pinned up with the light green hairpin. The dangling flowers caught the fading light. She looked... nervous. And beautiful. And very young.
He stopped a few paces away.
"You look..." He paused, searching for words. "Appropriate."
Shen Miao blinked. Then she laughed—a surprised, genuine sound. "Appropriate? Brother, that's the best you can do?"
Shen Yao's jaw tightened, but there was no heat in it. "You look nice," he amended. "The hairpin suits you."
Her laughter faded into something softer. "Thank you, Brother. For the hairpin. For... everything."
He didn't know what to say to that. So he nodded.
Xi Shu appeared at the end of the corridor, holding two cloaks.
"The carriage is ready, Young Master. Fourth Miss."
Shen Yao took his cloak and walked toward the gate. Shen Miao followed, her heart beating a little faster.
Behind them, Old Shen watched from the garden gate. He didn't call out. He just watched.
The lanterns were being lit along the pathway.
Tonight, the masks would go on.