Weeks turned into months, and the chrysanthemums that had bloomed when Mia first entered the pace gave way to winter plum blossoms and then spring peonies. Through the changing seasons, two constants remained: her secret meetings with Emperor Jin-Wei and his growing assertion of imperial authority.

  What had begun as minor administrative decisions had expanded to direct involvement in matters of state. The Emperor now regurly attended court sessions, questioned ministers about their policies, and occasionally overruled decisions made by the Grand Chancellor—small assertions of power, carefully measured to avoid direct confrontation with the Wang family while gradually reciming his rightful role.

  And through it all, Mia remained in her humble position, scrubbing floors by day and advising an emperor by night.

  Tonight they met in a secluded pavilion in the far corner of the Imperial Garden, where ancient cypress trees shielded them from view. Spring rain pattered gently on the tiled roof as Jin-Wei poured tea for both of them—an intimate gesture that would have scandalized the court had anyone witnessed it.

  "The Minister of Revenue nearly fainted when I questioned the tax exemptions for the Wang family estates," Jin-Wei said, amusement dancing in his ice-blue eyes. "I thought he might swallow his own tongue."

  Mia smiled, accepting the tea with a slight bow. "And did you revoke the exemptions?"

  "Not yet. I merely requested a complete accounting." His expression grew more serious. "Each step must be measured, as you've counseled. Too much too quickly will alert the Empress to the true extent of my intentions."

  "You've done remarkably well." Mia sipped her tea, savoring both the delicate fvor and the incredible reality of her situation. Across multiple worlds and lifetimes, she had never imagined sharing tea with an emperor as something approaching an equal. "The pace whispers that the Young Dragon has finally shown his cws."

  Jin-Wei ughed softly. "A poetic description. Is that what they call me now?"

  "Among the servants, yes. Among the court ministers, the discussions are less fttering but far more worried."

  "And what does my wife say about these developments?"

  Mia hesitated. The Empress rarely featured in their conversations, a deliberate omission that spoke volumes about the Emperor's feelings toward his political marriage.

  "The Empress maintains that Your Majesty is simply asserting yourself in minor matters to demonstrate authority, but that you ck the patience or interest for sustained governance." She paused. "She believes you will soon tire of the effort and return to your gardens and poetry."

  Jin-Wei's expression darkened. "She has always excelled at underestimation." He set down his tea cup with controlled precision. "For years, I allowed grief and apathy to rule me while she and her family pilged the empire. I was complicit in my own diminishment."

  He looked up at Mia, his gaze intense. "Until you."

  The air between them seemed to vibrate with unspoken emotion. In their months of cndestine meetings, they had maintained a careful distance—emperor and subject in public, cautious friends in private. But Mia had felt the growing tension in each gnce, each accidental touch as they exchanged scrolls or tea cups.

  "I am merely a servant who speaks honestly," she said softly.

  "You are far more than that, and we both know it." Jin-Wei rose and moved to stand before her, close enough that she could see the subtle flecks of darker blue in his ice-colored eyes. "There is something between us that defies expnation. Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I've known you across lifetimes."

  Mia's heart raced. In every world, there came a moment when the fragment recognized their connection—when Noir's fractured soul glimpsed its true nature. But never had it happened so explicitly, so personally.

  "Perhaps you have," she whispered.

  He reached out slowly, his fingertips barely brushing her cheek in a touch so gentle it might have been imagined. "Who are you, really, Song Yi-Mei? What spell have you cast that woke me from my living death?"

  Before she could answer, a sharp crack of a breaking branch interrupted the moment. They separated instantly, Jin-Wei moving to the pavilion entrance while Mia retreated to a respectful distance.

  "Your Majesty?" A voice called from the darkness. "Forgive the intrusion."

  Fei emerged from the shadows, his expression grave. "Urgent news that could not wait."

  Jin-Wei nodded. "Speak."

  "The Empress has summoned the Imperial Household Department for an emergency meeting. The topic concerns the servant Song Yi-Mei."

  Mia felt a chill that had nothing to do with the spring rain.

  "What about her?" Jin-Wei demanded.

  "My sources could not get close enough to hear details, but preparations are being made in the Hall of Feminine Virtue—where new consorts and concubines are processed."

  Understanding dawned on Jin-Wei's face, quickly followed by arm. "She means to elevate Yi-Mei to the harem."

  "It appears so, Your Majesty."

  Mia rose to her feet. "But that makes no sense. Why would she raise a lowly servant to concubine status?"

  Jin-Wei turned to her, his expression grim. "Because as a servant, you are beneath her notice and outside her direct authority. But as a concubine..."

  "I would be under her complete control," Mia finished, comprehension settling like ice in her stomach. "Subject to harem rules, harem punishments."

  "And unable to move freely about the pace or meet with me except under strict supervision." Jin-Wei's hands clenched at his sides. "It is a clever trap. If I reject the elevation, I admit your special importance to me. If I accept it, she gains control over you."

  Fei coughed discreetly. "There is more, Your Majesty. The Empress has also sent a messenger to her father. The Grand Chancellor is returning from his provincial inspection tour three weeks earlier than pnned."

  Jin-Wei's expression hardened. "So she has finally recognized the threat. She moves against us on two fronts—isoting you while bringing her father back to reinforce her position at court."

  "What will you do?" Mia asked.

  The Emperor was silent for a long moment, his face illuminated by fshes of lightning as the gentle rain turned to storm. "We must accelerate our pns," he finally said. "Fei, send word to activate all Eyes within the pace and the capital. I want the Dragon Seals brought to me tonight."

  Fei bowed deeply. "As you command."

  After the spy master departed, Jin-Wei turned back to Mia. "I had hoped for more time to consolidate my position before confronting the Wang family directly. But it seems my wife has forced my hand."

  "What can I do?" Mia asked.

  "For now, return to your quarters as if nothing has changed. When the summons comes tomorrow—and it will come—you must accept the elevation with appropriate gratitude and humility."

  "You want me to enter the trap willingly?"

  Jin-Wei's expression softened slightly. "I want you to appear to enter it willingly. Remember what you told me about wielding power from unexpected positions? The Empress believes she will neutralize you by bringing you into the harem. Instead, you will be perfectly positioned to be my eyes and ears among the women closest to her."

  Mia nodded slowly. "A dangerous game."

  "The most important ones always are." He moved closer again, the tension from earlier returning. "Yi-Mei... if I could, I would take you far from here, away from these pace intrigues and power struggles."

  "If you could, you wouldn't be the man I..." She stopped herself, but the unspoken words hung in the air between them.

  Jin-Wei's eyes darkened. With deliberate slowness, he reached out and took her hand in his—an intimacy that would have been unthinkable months before.

  "When this is over," he said softly, "when I have recimed my throne in truth as well as name, there are things I must tell you. Things I barely understand myself."

  "What things?" Mia asked, though she suspected she knew—the fragments in her inventory had been growing increasingly active as Jin-Wei's awakening progressed.

  "Dreams. Memories that cannot be mine." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Visions of other lives, other worlds. And in all of them, someone with your eyes."

  Before Mia could respond, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers—a kiss as brief as it was profound. Then he stepped back, once again every inch the Emperor.

  "Go now," he commanded gently. "Dawn comes early, and with it, change."

  The summons arrived just as morning court concluded. Mia was scrubbing the floor outside the Hall of Literary Cultivation when two pace maids in the Empress's livery approached, fnked by a eunuch bearing an imperial tablet.

  "Song Yi-Mei," the eunuch announced formally, holding out the tablet with its golden tassel. "By decree of Her Imperial Majesty the Empress, you are commanded to attend upon the Hall of Feminine Virtue immediately."

  Mia set aside her brush and bucket, aware of the stunned expressions of the servants around her. To receive an imperial summons was unprecedented for someone of her rank.

  "For what purpose am I summoned?" she asked, though she already knew.

  The eunuch's expression remained impassive. "It is not my pce to question imperial commands, only to deliver them."

  She bowed in acknowledgment and followed them through the pace complex. As they walked, whispers erupted in their wake. By midday, her elevation would be the subject of specution throughout the pace.

  The Hall of Feminine Virtue was a separate complex within the Inner Pace, where the Emperor's concubines and consorts lived under the watchful eyes of the Empress's eunuchs and serving women. Mia had never been permitted inside before, and she fought to maintain a calm exterior as they passed through its imposing gates.

  Inside, she was immediately surrounded by a flurry of activity. Pace women measured her for new robes while others examined her hands, face, and hair with critical eyes. A stern older woman who introduced herself as Lady Chen, supervisor of imperial concubines, watched the proceedings with evident disapproval.

  "The hands of a servant, the posture of a peasant," she muttered. "Shameful that such a creature should enter the imperial harem."

  No one expined what was happening, but they didn't need to. Every woman in the pace knew there was only one reason a common servant would be brought to the Hall of Feminine Virtue: the Emperor had shown interest, and the Empress had decided to formalize the arrangement.

  After being bathed, perfumed, and dressed in silk robes that felt alien against her skin, Mia was led to a receiving room where the Empress herself waited. Mia immediately prostrated herself, pressing her forehead to the cold marble floor.

  "Rise," Empress Wang Lihua commanded, her voice as beautiful and cold as jade striking stone. "Let me look at the servant who has captivated my husband's attention these past months."

  Mia rose to her knees, keeping her eyes downcast as protocol demanded. Through her shes, she observed the Empress—a vision of imperial splendor in crimson and gold robes, her headdress glittering with pearls and kingfisher feathers.

  "You are not particurly beautiful," the Empress observed dispassionately. "I had expected someone more striking to have held his interest for so long."

  "This unworthy one cannot expin His Majesty's kindness," Mia murmured.

  "No, I suppose you cannot." The Empress circled her slowly. "You are the daughter of Song Wen, the disgraced schor. Does your father's treason flow in your veins as well?"

  It was a dangerous question with no safe answer. Mia chose her words carefully. "This humble one knows nothing of politics or treason, Your Majesty. My father taught me only literature and proper conduct."

  "Yet my husband speaks with you of affairs of state. Do not bother to deny it; the pace has many eyes and ears."

  "His Majesty sometimes graciously asks my opinion on historical precedents mentioned in cssical texts," Mia said, which was technically true, if deliberately misleading.

  The Empress stopped directly in front of her. "Whatever game you have been pying with my husband ends today. From this moment, you are Concubine Song, ranked at the ninth and lowest level of imperial favorites. You will live in the Cold Moon Pavilion at the far edge of the concubine quarters, and you will follow every rule and protocol of the imperial harem without exception."

  She leaned closer, her perfect features arranged in a smile that never reached her eyes. "You will not see the Emperor unless he specifically requests your presence, and any such meetings will be supervised by my attendants. You will not leave the women's quarters without permission. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will, in short, disappear into the hundreds of women who wait uselessly for imperial attention that never comes."

  Mia bowed her head. "This humble one is grateful for Your Majesty's generosity in elevating one so unworthy."

  "Generosity had nothing to do with it." The Empress straightened, adjusting one of her golden hairpins. "Consider this elevation what it truly is: a cage gilded just enough to prevent my husband from objecting to your imprisonment. For that is what the women's quarters are, Concubine Song. A beautiful, perfumed prison from which you will never escape."

  With that, she turned and swept from the room, leaving Mia kneeling on the cold floor. Lady Chen entered immediately after, her expression severe.

  "You will follow me to your quarters, Concubine Song. Along the way, I will expin the rules that will govern the remainder of your life."

  As Mia rose to follow her, she felt the silver locket in her inventory pulse with unusual intensity, as if the fragments were responding to the heightened stakes of her situation. The Empress believed she had neutralized a minor threat, isoting Mia from the Emperor and pcing her under constant surveilnce.

  What she didn't realize was that the trap she had set would soon become her own undoing.

  Because the Empress had just done exactly what Jin-Wei predicted: she had pced Mia at the very heart of the women's quarters, where the real power of the Wang family was coordinated. Where the Empress's most trusted confidantes gathered. Where plots were hatched and secrets shared.

  Mia had infiltrated the inner sanctum of her enemies, invited by the Empress herself.

  As she followed Lady Chen through the vish corridors of her new prison, Mia allowed herself a small smile. The game had indeed changed—but not in the way the Empress intended.