Dawn spilled into the palace like liquid gold, too bright, too sharp. Jiao Shui had hardly slept. Her dreams tangled with memories she didn't want to revisit — fire, ash, a collapsing pavilion, a hand reaching for her through smoke.
But reality waited.
And reality was worse.
A crisp knock echoed against her chamber door.
Before she could respond, Song Lingfang opened it, already alert, sword at his side. Two eunuchs stood there, heads bowed, flanked by four armored palace guards whose faces were carved in stone.
"By decree of His Majesty," one eunuch announced, "Lady Jiao Shui is to be escorted to the Inner Court immediately."
Immediately.No breakfast.No preparation time.No goodbye.
Song Lingfang stepped forward, shoulders squared. "I will accompany her."
"The Emperor ordered her to enter alone," the eunuch replied, voice thin and careful.
A familiar shiver slid down Jiao Shui's spine.
Powerful men always wanted her alone.
Song Lingfang clenched his fists. "If the Emperor wishes to see her, he can—"
"Lingfang."
Jiao Shui's voice was soft but steady.
He stopped. Turned to her. His eyes carried a storm he was trying so hard to cage.
"It's fine," she said. "I'll go."
"It isn't fine." His voice broke slightly. "Jiao Shui, you don't know what awaits you in there."
She touched his arm lightly. "And I won't know unless I step forward."
Reluctantly, he let her go. But not before whispering:
"If anything feels wrong… signal me. I'll come even if it means treason."
Her heart fluttered painfully.
The eunuchs gestured. Jiao Shui followed them, the guards closing in around her like a human cage. The palace stretched quiet in the early light, the shadows long and suspicious.
As they crossed the Jade Bridge into the Inner Court, she felt the air shift.Denser.More perfumed.More watched.
High walls draped with silk muted most sound, leaving only soft footsteps and the distant hum of morning prayers.
Finally, they stopped before a massive set of doors carved with phoenix wings.
"The Emperor awaits inside," one eunuch said.
They opened the doors.
And she stepped into a world she had never seen before.
The Silent Hall of Reflections
The room was vast but eerily empty — a single stone path leading to a raised dais. Sunlight poured through the lattice windows in slanted beams, catching floating particles of incense like drifting stars.
At the far end, leaning lazily against a carved pillar, was the Emperor.
Dressed simply, for once — light robes, hair unbound, golden eyes half-lidded like a predator pretending to be tame.
He looked up the moment she entered.
"Good morning," he said, voice smooth as warm spring wine. "You arrived exactly on time."
She bowed, careful, measured.
"Your Majesty."
"Come closer."
She hesitated.
His lips twitched as though he found her hesitation amusing.
"Fear doesn't suit you, Jiao Shui. Not after everything you've survived."
She stepped forward, each pace measured.
When she stood before him, he studied her with a depth that made her skin prickle.
"You remember some of it now," he said softly. "Don't you?"
Her breath caught.
He pushed away from the pillar and approached her, each step slow and deliberate.
"When you saved me," he murmured, "you were more than a nameless girl. You were a promise."
Her pulse slammed in her ears. "A promise…?"
The Emperor lifted his hand.
Reached behind his neck.
And pulled forth a pendant she had never seen — a small crescent of jade, chipped in the exact pattern of her lost hairpin.
Her hairpin.
He had kept it.
For years.
"You dropped this," he whispered. "And I have waited for the face that matched the memory."
Her knees weakened.
This wasn't debt.This wasn't gratitude.This was obsession carved into time.
"You aren't the only one who remembers another life," he added quietly.
Her world stilled.
He knew.He knew.
He stepped closer, close enough for his breath to brush her cheek.
"In my dreams," he said, "you died in fire. And I swore that in this life, no one — not rebels, not fate, not my brother — would take you from me again."
Her throat tightened.
This wasn't the Emperor she had heard rumors about.
This was a man who had clawed through two lifetimes to reach her.
A man who knew too much.
A man who would not let go.
"Now," he murmured, lifting her chin with one finger, "shall we begin the selection?"
The jade pendant swung between them like a noose.