I gave Noble Consort Xi a formal curtsy. It was my way of saying thank you.
In the past, her family and the Guaerjias had joined forces to bring the Nians down. Now, she had indirectly saved my brother's life. Inside these walls, yesterday's mortal enemy could become today's unlikely savior—and the other way around, just as easily.
"If Consort Hua truly wishes to thank me, perhaps she could return the favor," Zhen Huan said.
I blinked. With no clan behind me and none of her imperial favor, what favor could I possibly offer?
Reading my confusion, she explained: "Years ago, I offended the Emperor and my family was destroyed by schemers. With the Emperor's affection behind you, surely toppling a mere plaything would be child's play—just as in the old days."
"Plaything?" I let out a dry laugh. In this palace, weren't we all playthings?
"Which one? Concubine An or Noble Lady Qi?" I gathered my composure.
"Consort Hua is clever enough to know exactly who I mean." Zhen Huan's eyes were steady. "She has been insufferable for years. Before, you endured her because you had no choice. Now that you've regained some standing—do you really intend to keep swallowing it?"
"No rush. Time is on my side," I said, unhurried.
Zhen Huan dipped in a curtsy. "Then I thank Consort Hua in advance."
* * *
I nodded and glanced over her shoulder. Noble Lady Qi was heading our way. Zhen Huan's smile sharpened—a blade tucked inside silk. I hardly recognized the expression.
Once Zhen Huan and I reached this unspoken understanding, life inside the palace grew considerably easier.
Concubine Hui stopped rolling her eyes at me. Consort Jing no longer spoke to me in ice. Even An Lingrong, who had always orbited the Empress, started making small talk.
I still disliked An Lingrong. Not because she competed for the Emperor's attention—but because she wore a human face over a beast's heart.
Every woman within these walls craved imperial favor. My hands were bloodstained, I'll admit that much. But I had never schemed to harm an innocent unborn child. An Lingrong had no such restraint.
After sealing our alliance, I once asked Noble Consort Xi why she hadn't moved against An Lingrong yet.
She gave me back my own words: "No rush. Time is on my side."
Then she handed me a tiny, exquisitely crafted round case. I opened it and inhaled. I knew the scent at once.
It shared a common thread with Huanyi Incense. Both were masked with other aromatics, but underneath—musk. I was certain.
The year Noble Consort Xi lost her child, the punishment I dealt her—the forced kneeling—had merely made me a scapegoat for An Lingrong's work. I was not the one who truly caused her miscarriage. That, I suspected, was the real reason she could stomach my existence after her return.
"Why not tell the Emperor?" I asked.
"The Emperor?" She laughed softly and answered with silence.
"Never mind. I understand." I sipped my tea and dropped the subject.
* * *
That evening, the Emperor came to Yikun Palace. He told me my brother's injuries were healing well and showered me with gold and jade ornaments.
Once, I loved anything gilded and opulent. After everything I'd been through, those things had somehow, without my noticing, become mere objects. I thanked him and told Songzhi to put them away.
When Songzhi stepped out, I broached the subject of releasing her from palace service—finding her a husband, a life of her own. The Emperor brushed it aside, claiming I had no one else capable at my side and the matter should be revisited later.
Over the following days, the Emperor visited Yikun Palace whenever he was free. The concubines whose eyes never left him grew bitterer by the day—Guaerjia Wenyuan chief among them.
She had the Empress at her back, and it showed. Every time we crossed paths, her words dripped with vinegar.
In the old days, she would have met the same fate as Xia Dongchun.
In early autumn, the Empress summoned all the consorts to Jingren Palace for a chrysanthemum-viewing banquet.
The blooms had barely opened—hardly worth admiring. The Empress's true purpose lay elsewhere.
I warned Zhen Huan that events like this were best avoided. She seemed unconcerned and went anyway. I expected the Empress's people to strike during the gathering, but the whole affair passed without incident.
The only noteworthy detail was Consort Qi's eyes. They never once left Noble Consort Xi's belly.
I could guess what she was thinking. The Third Prince was the eldest son. The Fourth Prince was out of favor. The Fifth Prince was being raised outside the palace. If Noble Consort Xi's child turned out to be a princess, the Third Prince had the strongest claim to the succession.
But just as I thought the banquet would end in forgettable blandness, Songzhi rushed in—Noble Consort Xi had gone into premature labor.
I had her help me change at once and hurried to Yongshou Palace. When I arrived, the Emperor, the Empress, every concubine, and a cluster of physicians already filled the courtyard.
Wen Shichu and the midwife were inside attending the birth. A physician named Wei Lin came out to report: the premature labor had been caused by something Noble Consort Xi should never have consumed.
The Emperor's fury shook the walls. The trail led back to Consort Qi—Noble Consort Xi had eaten a bowl of red-bean soup that Consort Qi had sent.
Hardly surprising. The only question was whether someone had put her up to it. The Emperor dispatched Su Peisheng to interrogate Consort Qi—but word came back that she had already taken her own life.
Consort Qi's maternal family had long since declined. The only person in this world who shared her blood was the Third Prince. She killed herself knowing full well the Empress would intercede for the boy, and that the Emperor—with so few surviving sons—would not punish him for his mother's crime.
And exactly as predicted, the Empress said a few well-placed words and the Third Prince was placed under her care as an adoptive son.
A pity the Emperor, the one person at the center of it all, couldn't see what was right in front of him.
* * *
Noble Consort Xi bore a set of twins—a boy and a girl. The Emperor's smile nearly outgrew his face. In that moment, his world contained nothing but her and the two infants.
I watched him cradle the little prince, and the rims of my eyes went hot.
Once, I envied Empress Chunyuan. Now, I envied Noble Consort Xi.
The Emperor named the boy Hongzhan, the Sixth Prince, and the girl Lingxi. Noble Consort Xi was elevated to Imperial Noble Consort, with the authority to co-manage the six palaces.
On the night of her investiture, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. What I did not expect was the Emperor walking all the way to the gates of Yikun Palace in the dead of night. Songzhi shook me awake.
"My lady—my lady, His Majesty is already at the gate. Quick, prepare to receive him!"
"Songzhi, do you honestly believe he came of his own accord?" I asked, adrift.
"His Majesty has you in his heart—of course he came willingly!" She was soothing me, and I knew it.
Today was Zhen Huan's investiture. Without her nudging him, the Emperor would be at Yongshou Palace right now, trimming candles, playing with his children.
"Tell the Emperor I'm asleep," I said.
"My lady—"
"Go." My patience cracked. One more second and I'd change my mind.
* * *
The Emperor never made it through my gate. In the end, it was Guaerjia Wenyuan who went to the Hall of Mental Cultivation in full finery, carrying a pot of soup.
Songzhi fumed on my behalf. I didn't care.
Any woman who has truly loved her husband refuses his pity—especially when that pity was another woman's idea of charity.
The aftermath was predictable. Bathed once more in imperial favor, Noble Lady Qi grew brazen. At the next morning's audience with the Empress, she picked a public fight with Concubine An.
A bout of wind-chill and a stomach illness had ruined Concubine An's voice—that oriole-like instrument that had once carried more than a passing echo of the late Empress Chunyuan's singing. Unable to sing, An Lingrong had long since been discarded by the Emperor. Even though she technically outranked Noble Lady Qi, she had no choice but to swallow the humiliation without a word.
I had assumed Noble Lady Qi confined her bullying to the weak. I was wrong. She came for me next.
That very afternoon, I had sent Songzhi to the imperial kitchen for crab-roe pastries. On the way, she ran into Noble Lady Qi, who was heading to the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
Noble Lady Qi must have said plenty of disrespectful things. Songzhi was already seething over the previous night's slight. When they collided, Songzhi held her tongue, but Noble Lady Qi was not the forgiving type.
She knocked the entire box of pastries to the ground and ordered her maid to slap Songzhi across the face.
* * *
Songzhi returned with one cheek swollen beyond recognition—but she refused to shed a tear, afraid I'd do something rash.
I could not swallow this. More than that, my heart broke for Songzhi. I took her with me and went straight to the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
When I arrived, Noble Lady Qi was inside, attending to the Emperor. Even through the doors and windows, their laughter was audible.
Su Peisheng saw the look on my face and stepped in front of me.
"Go announce me. Tell him I'm here to pay my respects," I said, every syllable glacial.
Su Peisheng hesitated.
"Does Su Peisheng take orders only from Noble Lady Qi these days? Or have I become too insignificant to warrant a glance?"
"This servant would never dare." He bowed hastily. "Please wait one moment. I'll report at once."
The Emperor, at least, did not turn me away. Su Peisheng ushered us in.
The instant Noble Lady Qi saw Songzhi and me, the smile evaporated from her face. She hadn't thought I would have the nerve.
"Perfect timing, Consort Hua. Noble Lady Qi made crab-roe pastries herself—your favorite. Come, try some." The Emperor had seen Songzhi's swollen cheek; of course he had. He just hadn't expected me to make a scene about it.
I told him exactly what had happened, then knelt and asked him for justice.
Silence. Then the Emperor turned to Noble Lady Qi, who was kneeling beside me. "You've been getting more and more out of line. Go back to Jiaolu Lodge and face the wall. You are not to leave without my permission."
"Your Majesty—" She started to beg.
I cut her off. "Your Majesty is being lenient."
Perhaps the Emperor wanted to use my hand to curb the Guaerjia faction. He pulled me to my feet and asked, with deliberate patience: "What would you consider fair?"
"This concubine thinks: since Noble Lady Qi slapped Songzhi, let Songzhi return the slap. Then they'll be even."
Before the Emperor could respond, Noble Lady Qi whimpered a pitiful "Your Majesty" in a voice thin as silk thread.
The Emperor clearly felt I was humiliating his little toy and damaging his dignity. He tried to smooth things over. "Noble Lady Qi was wrong, yes, but there is a matter of rank—"
I didn't let him finish. I swept my arm across the desk and sent his plate of crab-roe pastries crashing to the floor. "In that case—Noble Lady Qi destroyed the pastries Songzhi was bringing to me. Consider this your compensation."
"Your Majesty…" Noble Lady Qi looked to him again, her eyes brimming, every inch the fragile, wronged beauty.
I had prepared myself for mutual destruction. To my surprise, the Emperor gave me face.
"Do as Consort Hua says. Slapped, or eat what's on the floor—your choice."
Noble Lady Qi's eyes blazed red. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she picked the pastries off the floor, piece by piece, and swallowed them.
The Emperor, as always, couldn't bear a weeping woman for long. After a few bites, he waved her off. "Enough. A small lesson learned. Stop stirring up trouble."
She kowtowed, thanked him for his mercy, and retreated.