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arkness and betrayed faly’s trust. I de choices I knew would risk their dishonor. Since then, I have pledged an oath to be loyal, brave, and true. In order to fulfill this oath, I st return ho and ke ands to faly.”
There was a pause as the Eeror considered Mulan’s words. Then he nodded. Raising his voice, he forlly addressed the court. “Devotion to faly is an essential virtue!” As his scribes took note of this new official declaration, the Eeror looked once re at Mulan. He did not say anything for a nt, his warnbsp; eyes seeng to peer into her soul. Then, as though satisfied with what he had seen there, the Eeror nodded again. This ti, in a voice only she could hear, he said. “Very well, Hua Mulan.”
Turning, he ved back to the throne. Disssed, Mulan de her way toward the soldiers—her friends. The night was young, and the celebration was just beginning. For the next few hours, Mulan reasoned, she would et her journey ho and just enjoy life. She would have ti to think about what to say when she saw her faly—and her father—later.
Dawn was beginning to brighten the edge of the Ierial City as Mulan led Black Wind across a bridge toward the in gates. In the sky above a few lanterns drifted aiessly, while a boat floated ety in the water below. The city was quiet in the post-celebration hour, as was Mulan.
“You can’t leave.”
Hearing Honghui’s voice, Mulan turned, surprised by the etion she felt as she looked over at the handso young n. Throughout the night she had tried to find hi but to no avail. There was so ch she wanted to say. She wanted to say how sorry she was and how she had wanted to tell hinbsp; the truth all along. She wanted to say hello—and goodbye. But now that he was there, in front of her, she was at a loss for words.
Honghui walked closer, the rising sun king his hair light up and his eyes twinkle. He sled as he approached, and Mulan couldn’t help sling back. “The Eeror gives his perssion for to leave,” she said. “But you do not?”
“We’ve not said goodbye,” Honghui answered.
“Goodbye, Honghui,” she replied.
“Goodbye, Mulan.”
There was an awkward beat as they stared into each other’s eyes, both clearly wanting—needing—to say re, and yet neither wishing to be the first to do so. Mulan shifted on her feet. Across fronbsp; her, Honghui ran a hand through his hair. Mulan wondered what it would be like to take that hand and hold it in her own.
As if reading her thoughts, Honghui did just that. Reaching over, he tried
There was a pause as the Eeror considered Mulan’s words. Then he nodded. Raising his voice, he forlly addressed the court. “Devotion to faly is an essential virtue!” As his scribes took note of this new official declaration, the Eeror looked once re at Mulan. He did not say anything for a nt, his warnbsp; eyes seeng to peer into her soul. Then, as though satisfied with what he had seen there, the Eeror nodded again. This ti, in a voice only she could hear, he said. “Very well, Hua Mulan.”
Turning, he ved back to the throne. Disssed, Mulan de her way toward the soldiers—her friends. The night was young, and the celebration was just beginning. For the next few hours, Mulan reasoned, she would et her journey ho and just enjoy life. She would have ti to think about what to say when she saw her faly—and her father—later.
Dawn was beginning to brighten the edge of the Ierial City as Mulan led Black Wind across a bridge toward the in gates. In the sky above a few lanterns drifted aiessly, while a boat floated ety in the water below. The city was quiet in the post-celebration hour, as was Mulan.
“You can’t leave.”
Hearing Honghui’s voice, Mulan turned, surprised by the etion she felt as she looked over at the handso young n. Throughout the night she had tried to find hi but to no avail. There was so ch she wanted to say. She wanted to say how sorry she was and how she had wanted to tell hinbsp; the truth all along. She wanted to say hello—and goodbye. But now that he was there, in front of her, she was at a loss for words.
Honghui walked closer, the rising sun king his hair light up and his eyes twinkle. He sled as he approached, and Mulan couldn’t help sling back. “The Eeror gives his perssion for to leave,” she said. “But you do not?”
“We’ve not said goodbye,” Honghui answered.
“Goodbye, Honghui,” she replied.
“Goodbye, Mulan.”
There was an awkward beat as they stared into each other’s eyes, both clearly wanting—needing—to say re, and yet neither wishing to be the first to do so. Mulan shifted on her feet. Across fronbsp; her, Honghui ran a hand through his hair. Mulan wondered what it would be like to take that hand and hold it in her own.
As if reading her thoughts, Honghui did just that. Reaching over, he tried