"There she is—the little mouse who scurries about the Imperial Garden."

  Mia froze, her arms full of freshly undered linens. She had been making her way through the servants' corridor toward the storeroom when three figures blocked her path. At their center stood Liu Mei, daughter of the Head Eunuch's sister and a servant assigned to the Empress's quarters—a position that granted her significant status among the lower ranks.

  "I don't know what you mean," Mia said carefully, keeping her eyes downcast as was expected of her station.

  Liu Mei stepped closer, her lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Don't py stupid, Song. One of the garden attendants saw you speaking with the Emperor yesterday. A direct viotion of pace protocol."

  A chill ran down Mia's spine. She had hoped her encounter with Emperor Jin-Wei would remain secret, at least long enough for her to fulfill his summons to the Moon Viewing Pavilion that afternoon. She should have known better. In the Forbidden City, walls had ears and shadows had eyes.

  "It was a misunderstanding," Mia said. "I was caught in the wrong pce when His Majesty's procession arrived."

  "A misunderstanding," Liu Mei repeated mockingly. "Was it also a misunderstanding when His Majesty specifically addressed you? When he commanded you to return today?"

  Mia's silence was confirmation enough. The two servants fnking Liu Mei exchanged meaningful gnces.

  "Do you know what happens to serving girls who catch the Emperor's eye?" Liu Mei asked, her voice deceptively sweet. "They disappear. The Empress sees to that. No lowborn girl from nowhere is going to threaten her position or those of her carefully pced consorts."

  "I have no such aspirations," Mia protested. "The Emperor merely wished to inquire about—"

  "About what? Your extensive knowledge of floor scrubbing?" Liu Mei interrupted. "You forget your pce, Song Yi-Mei. You are nothing here—a repcement for a broken mop, a pair of hands to do the work no one else wants."

  Mia knew she should stay quiet, should accept the abuse and move on. But something of Lin Mei-Li's pride from her years at the Azure Cloud Sect surfaced. "And yet the Emperor spoke to me, not to you," she said softly.

  The sp came faster than she could react. Liu Mei's hand struck her cheek with surprising force, sending the linens tumbling from Mia's arms. The two other servants quickly grabbed her, one on each arm, as Liu Mei stepped closer.

  "You need to be taught respect," she hissed. "His Majesty may have some passing curiosity about you, but it will fade. And when it does, you'll still be here, with us. Remember that."

  She gestured to one of her companions, who pulled a pitcher of dirty water from a nearby cleaning cart. Without hesitation, she poured it over Mia's head, soaking her hair and robes.

  "Now you look as you should—like something that crawled from the gutter," Liu Mei said with satisfaction. "His Imperial Majesty appreciates beauty and refinement. Let's see if he still wants to speak with a drowned rat."

  They released her arms, shoving her backward so she stumbled and fell among the scattered linens, now soiled by the dirty water and the dusty floor.

  "Pick those up and rewash them," Liu Mei commanded. "And if you're te with your duties, I'll personally inform Matron Zhao that you've been neglecting your work to daydream about imperial attention."

  The three walked away, their ughter echoing in the narrow corridor. Mia remained on the floor for a moment, her cheek stinging, her hair dripping murky water onto her already soaked robes. She touched her face gingerly, feeling the heat of what would surely become a visible mark.

  "Are you all right?" A timid voice broke through her thoughts. A young serving girl—newer even than Mia—peered around the corner.

  "I'm fine," Mia replied, beginning to gather the fallen linens. "Nothing I can't handle."

  The girl hesitated, then hurried forward to help. "I'm Xiao Bao. I work in the kitchens." She lowered her voice. "Is it true? Did the Emperor really speak to you?"

  Mia gnced around to ensure they were alone. "Yes, but it wasn't what Liu Mei is suggesting. He asked about my education, that's all."

  Xiao Bao's eyes widened. "Still, no one from our rank has spoken directly with the Emperor in... well, in as long as anyone can remember."

  "And now I see why," Mia said dryly, gesturing to her sodden state.

  Together they gathered the linens. When they finished, Xiao Bao gnced nervously over her shoulder. "You should know... the Emperor's summons is common knowledge now. At least among the servants. Liu Mei has probably already informed her mistress in the Empress's chambers."

  Mia's heart sank. "Then I'm already in danger."

  "What will you do? Will you go to the Moon Viewing Pavilion as commanded?"

  Mia considered her options. To disobey an imperial command was unthinkable, potentially punishable by death. Yet to obey might pce her in the crosshairs of the Empress—a woman known for eliminating threats with ruthless efficiency.

  "I have to go," she decided. "But I need to clean up first."

  Xiao Bao shook her head. "There's no time. Your meeting is at the hour of the Snake, isn't it? That's less than half an incense stick from now. If you're te..."

  She didn't need to finish the thought. Imperial patience was not known to be generous.

  "Then I'll go as I am," Mia said, squaring her shoulders. "Thank you for your help, Xiao Bao."

  The girl nodded. "Be careful. And... if you can... tell me what the Imperial Garden looks like. I've always wondered."

  Despite everything, Mia smiled. "I will."

  The Moon Viewing Pavilion stood on a small isnd in the center of a lotus pond, accessible only by a narrow stone bridge. Designed for solitary contemption, it offered both privacy and a clear view of anyone approaching—ideal for cndestine meetings.

  As Mia crossed the bridge, she was painfully aware of her appearance. Her hair, hastily rebound, still dripped occasionally down her neck. Her robes, though she had wrung them out as best she could, clung uncomfortably to her body and bore faint brown stains from the dirty water. Worst of all, she could feel the heat on her cheek where Liu Mei's sp had left its mark.

  She paused at the pavilion entrance, taking a deep breath before announcing herself. "Your Imperial Majesty, your servant Song Yi-Mei attends as commanded."

  For a moment, there was silence. Then, from within the shadowed interior: "Enter."

  Emperor Jin-Wei sat beside a cquered table, a scroll of poetry open before him. He wore simpler robes than the previous day—still imperial yellow but with less eborate embroidery, suggesting this was a private rather than ceremonial appearance. The jade crown was absent, his bck hair bound in a simple topknot secured with a golden pin.

  He looked up as she entered, his ice-blue eyes widening slightly at her bedraggled state. "What happened to you?" he asked, setting aside the scroll.

  Mia bowed deeply, keeping her face down. "This unworthy servant apologizes for her unseemly appearance. There was an... accident with some washing water."

  "Look at me," he commanded, his voice sharp.

  Reluctantly, Mia raised her face, knowing the red mark on her cheek would be clearly visible.

  The Emperor stood abruptly, crossing the distance between them with surprising speed. He grasped her chin, tilting her face to examine the mark. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but his expression had hardened into something dangerous.

  "This is no accident," he said, his voice low. "Who struck you?"

  "It doesn't matter, Your Majesty." Mia tried to look away, but his hold on her chin remained firm.

  "It matters to me." The intensity in his eyes was unsettling. "Was it because of our meeting yesterday?"

  Mia hesitated, then nodded slightly. There was no point in lying—he would likely see through it.

  The Emperor released her chin and turned away, his hands clenched at his sides. Something in his posture reminded Mia of Sir Kael in the moments before battle—a contained fury seeking release.

  "Give me their name," he demanded.

  "Your Majesty, please," Mia said. "It would only make matters worse. I am merely a servant, and—"

  "And I am the Emperor," he cut in, turning back to face her. His eyes bzed with an emotion Mia couldn't quite identify. "Contrary to popur belief in this nest of vipers, that still carries some weight."

  The vehemence in his voice surprised her. According to everything she'd heard, Emperor Jin-Wei was indifferent to the workings of his own pace, content to let the Empress's family rule in his name. Yet here he stood, visibly disturbed by the mistreatment of a mere servant.

  "Why does this upset you so?" she asked, forgetting protocol in her confusion.

  The question seemed to catch him off guard. He blinked, the anger giving way to something like bewilderment.

  "I... don't know," he admitted, his voice softer now. He raised a hand as if to touch her cheek again but stopped himself. "There's something... familiar about you. Something I can't expin."

  Mia's heart quickened. Just as in previous worlds, the connection between their souls recognized itself, even if his conscious mind did not yet understand.

  "Perhaps we knew each other in a past life, Your Majesty," she suggested carefully.

  A shadow of a smile crossed his face. "An interesting thought. Do you believe in such things, Song Yi-Mei?"

  "I believe some connections transcend ordinary understanding."

  The Emperor studied her for a long moment, his ice-blue eyes seeming to search for something in her face. Whatever internal struggle he faced, some decision was reached. He moved to a cabinet and withdrew a small porcein jar and a silk cloth.

  "Sit," he instructed, gesturing to a cushioned seat.

  When Mia hesitated, he added, "That's an imperial command, not a suggestion."

  She obeyed, perching nervously on the edge of the seat. The Emperor opened the jar, revealing a pale green salve that smelled of herbs and wintergreen. He dipped his fingers into it and, with surprising gentleness, applied it to her reddened cheek.

  "This is made by the imperial physicians," he expined, his voice deliberately casual, though Mia could hear the underlying tension. "It will prevent bruising."

  The gesture was so intimate, so unexpected that Mia found herself speechless. No one would believe the Emperor of all under heaven was personally tending to a servant's injury. Yet here he was, his fingers cool against her heated skin, his face just inches from hers as he concentrated on his task.

  "Your Majesty—" she began.

  "Jin," he interrupted. "When we are alone, you may call me Jin."

  Mia stared at him in shock. "That would be treason."

  A bitter smile twisted his lips. "Only if someone hears it. And in this pavilion, there are no ears but ours." He finished applying the salve and stepped back. "Consider it a fair exchange for the mark you bear because of me."

  He returned to his seat, gesturing for her to remain where she was. "Now, tell me about yourself, Song Yi-Mei. The truth this time—how does a schor's daughter end up scrubbing floors in my pace?"

  Mia took a deep breath. She could feel the fragments in her inventory stirring, as if encouraging her to forge this connection.

  "It's a story of politics and punishment, Your Majesty," she began carefully. "My father dared to speak against corruption. The price was his freedom... and eventually, mine."

  The Emperor's eyes never left her face as she spoke, the ice in them gradually warming with something that looked remarkably like understanding—and beneath that, a spark of something that had been missing in their first encounter.

  Purpose.