[ Her voice is soft, as it has always been, but the words she speaks are fire and steel. He presses himself against the heat of her, wishing for the flame of her resolve to forge him into something better, something stronger, more worthy. He nods in answer as he struggles with his voice, with his weakness, another wall coming down inside him as she dries his tears as no one's done since he stopped being a boy and instead took up the mantle of sect leader.

Before her, he is laid bare. He is laid bare, and she sees him, and she does not look away. Throat so raw he's not sure he doesn't taste blood, Jiang Cheng pulls in another tight breath, catches both her hands to hold them in his own. ]

There's a future for you, for you and your brother both. The sects are not in power here. Your hands— [ He grips them tighter, clasping them to his own chest. ] —are not stained by the Wen name. And I—

[ He blinks back the last of his tears, forces them down with a hard swallow. He steels himself, straightening where he kneels, shoulders pulling back and head held high. He meets her eyes at long last, this time unyielding. ]

...I'm beholden to nothing. In a world where I can choose to what I swear myself to, Lady Wen—

Let me swear myself to you.