The summons reached Seo Yerin after nightfall.
Not formal.
Not sealed.
A single servant knelt at the doorway and spoke quietly, eyes lowered.
"Elder Heo requests an audience," he said. "He says the matter cannot wait."
Yerin looked up from the ledger in her hand.
Muyu was already half-asleep beside her, sprawled lazily across the cushions, his earlier complaints about dinner fading into soft, meaningless sounds. She studied him for a moment, then closed the ledger.
"Tell the elder to wait," she said. "I will receive him shortly."
The servant bowed and withdrew.
Yerin rose and crossed the chamber, stopping near the screen that separated the inner sleeping area from the outer sitting space. She did not call for attendants.
There was no need.
Tonight was not about ceremony.
It was about alignment.
She glanced once toward Muyu. He blinked at her sleepily.
"Someone important?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"Oh." He yawned. "You're good with important people."
She did not answer.
Instead, she loosened the tie at her waist and let the outer robe slip from her shoulders. The fabric fell soundlessly to the floor. She did not rush to replace it.
This, too, was deliberate.
By the time the door slid open again, the chamber had been prepared—not with objects, but with positioning.
And Elder Heo stepped into it already knowing he was late.
*****
The chamber was warm.
Lanternlight pooled low around the bed, softened by silk shades that turned sharp edges into suggestion. The outer doors were closed, attendants dismissed early under the pretense of privacy.
Seo Yerin did not dress for sleep.
She stood near the bed with her back to the lantern, bare skin catching light along the curve of her shoulders and spine. The silk robe she had worn earlier lay folded on the chair, forgotten. Nothing concealed her now.
Muyu sat at the edge of the bed, half reclined, his posture loose and unguarded. He watched her with open fascination, not hunger so much as curiosity — as though she were something newly allowed rather than something he possessed.
"Come closer," she said.
He did.
She guided him down with a hand on his shoulder, settling beside him, her movements unhurried. Her touch was deliberate but restrained, fingers resting briefly against his chest, his neck, his jaw — never lingering long enough to invite initiative.
He smiled, encouraged.
"You don't mind when I touch you," he said.
"I allow it," she corrected gently.
He laughed, not quite understanding the difference, and obeyed her hands when she repositioned him again.
That was when the knock came.
Soft.
Measured.
Elder Heo waited only a moment before the door slid open.
He did not step fully inside.
He paused just beyond the threshold.
Seo Yerin did not turn.
She did not cover herself.
She remained exactly where she was — standing, bare, one hand resting lightly against Muyu's shoulder, the other relaxed at her side.
Heo's eyes lowered immediately.
Not in embarrassment.
In restraint.
"My lady," he said evenly. "Forgive the intrusion."
"I was told it's urgent," she replied calmly.
"Yes," he agreed. "The matter is time-sensitive."
She turned then — just enough.
Enough that he could see her profile. The line of her body. The fact that she made no effort to hide herself.
He did not look directly.
He did not need to.
Muyu shifted, breath hitching, as her hand returned between his legs and took hold of him without hesitation.
"Speak," she said.
Heo kept his gaze angled toward the floor. "Delegates from the Western Ridge Sect have arrived sooner than expected. Two elders. One attendant. They request audience tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Muyu echoed vaguely.
"Yes," Heo replied. "They come to discuss joint control over the eastern trade routes."
Seo Yerin considered this.
"You will tell them I will receive them," she said.
Heo hesitated. "The council expected—"
"They will accept it," she interrupted. "And so will the guests."
Silence.
"Yes," Heo said finally. "They will."
Her hand moved slowly across Muyu's shoulder, a grounding presence. He leaned into it without thought, already accustomed to following her lead.
"You may go," she said.
Heo bowed — deeply this time — and withdrew, sliding the door shut behind him.
Only then did Seo Yerin turn fully back to the bed.
Muyu looked up at her. "Was that important?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Oh." He smiled lazily. "You're good at important things."
She did not respond.
She guided him back down, her movements calm, practiced. The lantern flame dipped lower, shadows deepening across the room.
Outside, the sect continued its quiet routines.
Inside, authority settled where it belonged.
The room softened.