I was fairly certain the Emperor wanted me dead.
After entering the palace, it took me just one year to climb from a lowly Beauty to Imperial Consort. Fu Tingyan had practically dragged me up the ranks himself. My name was on everyone's lips—every servant, every concubine, every eunuch in the inner court knew it by heart.
Some whispered that I had learned dark arts to bewitch the sovereign.
My father was a general, yes, but one who stood garrison on the frontier—nothing like the powerful commanders stationed in the Capital. So this meteoric rise did not feel like a blessing. It felt like a blade, slowly being turned toward my throat.
A king's heart is impossible to read. Before he kills you, he loves you first.
Fu Tingyan had seized the reins of power at nineteen. In the eight years since, he had crushed the minister Zhou Zheng, then eliminated Dowager Consort Sun—the woman who'd held a knife to his lifeline for years. A ruler with blood that cold, I had expected to be all silent menace and icy grandeur. Yet behind closed doors, the man was disarmingly gentle.
Gentle, and still terrifying.
That morning, his old eunuch came to my chambers with a message: His Majesty would visit tonight. After I saw the man out, I counted on my fingers how many times Fu Tingyan had come this month. I ran out of fingers on both hands.
I had to do something. At this rate, even if the Emperor didn't kill me, the other consorts surely would.
That evening, Fu Tingyan arrived as promised. I had prepared wine and dishes and stood off to the side, demure and proper. He spotted me, smiled faintly, and pulled me down by the hand to sit.
"No need for formalities when it's just us."
I lowered myself into the seat across from him, fingers knotted together beneath the table. It took three steadying breaths before I could deliver the speech I had been rehearsing all afternoon.
"Your Majesty, this humble consort is deeply grateful for your favor. But the inner palace has so many other consorts—perhaps you might visit them sometime?"
"I don't have the time."
He didn't even look up. That single sentence sealed off every argument I had prepared.
A knot lodged itself in my chest.
But tonight was my best chance to steer him elsewhere—even for a single evening. I filled his cup with deliberate care and tried again.
"I understand Your Majesty is burdened with affairs of state and cannot spare a moment. But even setting the other consorts aside—shouldn't you at least visit the Empress?"
Fu Tingyan finally set down his chopsticks. His full attention landed on my face. "Did the Empress say something to you?"
"Absolutely not!" My denial was instant.
"Then why are you asking me to see the Empress?"
His expression was stone-still, composed to the last detail, and I very nearly choked on my own breath. Who knew what game he was playing? Marrying into the palace had never been my idea in the first place. If I lost my life over it, the trade was simply too cruel.
"Your Majesty can't just… stay here all the time…"
"You don't want me here?"
I nodded reflexively—then caught myself and shook my head hard.
A shadow passed across Fu Tingyan's face. I squirmed under the silence, unwilling to speak the truth yet unable to come up with a prettier lie. After an agonizing pause, I finally forced the words out.
"Your Majesty, to flaunt imperial favor is a grave offense. This humble consort does not wish to become a sinner accused of bewitching the sovereign."
The sharp crack of his palm striking the table jolted through me. I dropped to my knees at once.
A tall shadow fell over me. Long, tapered fingers caught my chin and tipped it upward.
My gaze met Fu Tingyan's. Those eyes were startlingly beautiful—dark lashes, an upward sweep at the outer corners—and in the black of his pupils I could see my own reflection staring back.
His hand shifted, rocking my head with the motion.
"Focus." He gave another small shake, brow creasing. "Bewitching the sovereign… you're nowhere near skilled enough for that. Why don't you practice first? If you actually manage it, then maybe I'll consider what you just said."
My voice pitched higher before I could stop it. "Really?"
Fu Tingyan propped his elbow on his knee and rested his cheek against one hand, watching me. "Everyone else schemes to keep me by their side. Why are you so determined to push me out the door?"
Because I don't want to die for nothing. I just want to survive.
That was what I thought. It was decidedly not what I said.
"Because Your Majesty belongs to the whole world. Not to me alone."
* * *
Fu Tingyan's remark that night hadn't been mere deflection. He truly had no time.
A year ago, the Xiongnu had launched an assault on the northwestern frontier. The court dispatched an envoy to forge an alliance with the Yuezhi and mount a joint counterattack, but word arrived days ago that the Xiongnu had intercepted and slaughtered the envoy on the road. They'd sent the severed head back along with the shattered staff of office—a provocation so blatant it needed no interpretation.
Fu Tingyan had been locked in deliberations with his ministers about a punitive campaign ever since. After that evening, he did not come to my chambers again.
I finally exhaled. At least for now, the Emperor would stay away.
Late spring melted past. Willows in the palace gardens were budding, their catkins drifting loose on the breeze. I lay propped against the window, watching the white fluff float and thinking about nothing in particular, when I heard footsteps.
I glanced over.
It was A-Yan.
She had been with me since our days in Shazhou. A maidservant by title, but after so many years together she was more family than servant. When no one else was around, we dropped the formalities altogether.
A-Yan set a cup of tea on my table and fixed me with a stern look. "My lady, have you lost your mind? Shooing the Emperor away—only you would pull something like that. We have no family connections and no backers. Without His Majesty to cling to, how exactly do you plan to survive?"
I shot her a sidelong glance. "You don't know a damn thing. Nobody lifts a girl this high without a safety net unless they're planning to let her drop."
"Even so, you can't just—" A-Yan was getting flustered. "At least coax some silver and jade from him while the bloom is still fresh! Once the novelty fades, we won't have rice money to our name."
I studied her for a long moment. She stared back, jaw set, every line of her face announcing that this was simply common sense.
So the maidservant who had followed me all these years saw me as a hostage to be ransomed—and the Emperor himself as the mark.
A laugh broke out of me despite myself. I tapped a fingertip on the table and said, with as much solemnity as I could muster, "A-Yan, as long as I have food in my mouth, you won't starve. Stop worrying. The problem isn't scarcity—it's that this much imperial favor, this fast, is more than we can afford."
A-Yan pursed her lips. "That's easy for you to say, my lady. You've never gone truly hungry."
I went still. I didn't argue further—I had no wish to stir up the memories behind those words.
A-Yan had once been a slave in a Xiongnu tribe. When the clans turned on one another, she'd barely escaped with her life, collapsing on the road where my father's column was marching. When they carried her back, she was little more than a bundle of kindling wrapped in skin.
I never brought up the old days, and I never asked A-Yan what had happened during those years. She never volunteered, either. All of it lay buried beneath the moment my father scooped her off the sand.
A-Yan ducked out to prepare lunch. I flopped back down and paged idly through an illustrated album, waiting for food.
Food didn't come. What came was the Emperor's old eunuch.
Never a good sign.
I scrambled off the daybed in a tangle of limbs—hair raked straight, shoes jammed on—just in time for Eunuch Chen to step through the doorway.
I pasted on a sweet smile. "Eunuch Chen."
He was steady and seasoned, the sort of man whose composure never slipped, but there was always something sharp behind his eyes—a smile on the surface and a blade just underneath.
He smiled back and dipped into a bow. "Consort Jiang, this old servant has come to relay His Majesty's verbal decree."
I bent my knees, ready to drop into a full kowtow, but he caught me by the arm before I could.
"No need for that, Your Ladyship." Eunuch Chen steadied me with a smile, then reached into his sleeve and produced a folded slip of paper. "His Majesty asked this old servant to deliver this. Please keep it safe."
The paper was folded into a crisp square. By the time I took it, Eunuch Chen was already retreating down the corridor. I watched his figure shrink in the distance, thoroughly confused.
What is Fu Tingyan playing at?
A-Yan, who had been lurking somewhere out of sight, could barely contain herself. The instant Eunuch Chen's back disappeared, she darted out and crammed herself against my shoulder. "Open it, open it!"
We pressed our heads together and peeled the paper open, breath held.
The Bewitchment Decree for Consort Jiang.
My skull buzzed.
I had assumed that was just a throwaway joke.
I tossed the slip onto the table. Five items were listed in stark black ink, each one more outrageous than the last.
Slowly, I lowered my face into my hands.
A-Yan smacked one palm against the back of the other, beaming at me. "My lady, this is wonderful! It means His Majesty still fancies you! Hurry up and get ready—go tackle Item One—"
I spun around, grabbed a cushion off the daybed, and launched it straight at her head.
* * *
The first item on the Bewitchment Decree was to bring a lantern at night.
By the time dusk deepened and the palace lanterns lit the compound from end to end, I was already dressed and ready to leave for Fenglin Palace.
At the last moment, A-Yan pressed a different lamp into my hands—one with a fat belly and a tiny copper mirror set inside it. She eyed her creation and thumped her chest proudly. "Trust me! This thing will dazzle Fu Tingyan senseless!"
Blind him, and would I still make it back in one piece?
The instant she turned away, I swapped the lantern back to the plain one.
The night breeze carried the last warmth of the day through my sleeves, impossibly pleasant. The wind in the Capital was nothing like Shazhou's—gentle, almost tender.
I had come without attendants, and because I didn't know the corridors well, the walk took longer than it should have. By the time I reached Fenglin Palace, the lights inside were already burning.
Fu Tingyan must have been stretched thin lately. I'd heard that the lamps in Fenglin Palace now stayed lit through the night, one sleepless stretch after another.
I approached with my lantern. Eunuch Chen stood outside the door. A flicker of surprise crossed his face when he saw me alone, but he smoothed it away in an instant and pushed the door open in silence.
A vast map of the western territories commanded the far wall, bristling with dozens of tiny flags. Beneath it, Fu Tingyan sat bent over a desk, studying something with deep concentration, brow faintly creased.
I stood on the opposite side and watched him. The figure behind the desk remained motionless for a long while—then, without lifting his head, he spoke.
"Bring me the flags."
He must have thought it was Eunuch Chen who'd entered.
I glanced around. A tray of small flags sat on the table beside me. I picked it up, walked over, and held it out.
Fu Tingyan noticed my hands first. He froze, then lifted his gaze. The moment our eyes met, a soft laugh escaped him.
"I didn't think you'd actually come."
"Your Majesty issued a formal decree." I set the tray on the desk and swung the lantern lightly. "How could this humble consort dare refuse? I even brought a lamp."
He seemed to have been sitting for hours. A sigh left him as he stretched, draping one arm over the back of his chair and turning to look at me. "I thought you didn't want to bewitch the sovereign?"
Sometimes this Emperor was truly unreasonable. But he was the most powerful man under heaven—whatever grievance I felt, I could only swallow it whole.
A thousand thoughts churned through my chest. I dissolved every one of them into a single bright smile.
Yet Fu Tingyan's expression, strangely, dimmed.
"What is it?" I asked.
He didn't answer. Instead he reached into the tray, plucked out two flags, and held them toward me. "Pin these at Shazhou and the Scarlet Flame Army's position."
I took the flags, rose, and searched the map until I found both locations. As I pushed them in, a low voice came from behind me.
"Don't be late next time. And since you failed to bring a proper lantern tonight, you can stay to put the lamps out instead."
I knew he was angry. I just could not figure out why. Unwilling to stir up more trouble, I nodded.
What I didn't know was that putting out the lamps meant waiting until dawn.
Fu Tingyan worked through the entire night. I stayed with him, fighting to keep my eyelids propped open, not daring to doze for a single breath—until the first sliver of daylight cut across the horizon and spilled onto the floor of Fenglin Palace.