Sera hadn't expected to be summoned.
She'd just finished a scroll lesson—something about the proper spacing of brush strokes in imperial correspondence—when a soft-spoken eunuch appeared at the door.
"The Empress Dowager requests your presence."
Not an invitation. A command.
She bathed. She changed. She walked.
The Hall of Autumn Moons was nothing like the rest of the palace. No vibrant panels. No music in the distance. Just the hush of old power and the faint scent of sandalwood.
Sera was led into a round chamber where the air itself felt ancient.
The Empress Dowager sat reclined on a cushioned dais, veiled slightly in silk, a fox-fur shawl across her knees despite the warmth. Her eyes—dark and glassy—held stillness, like a pond that hadn't rippled in years.
Sera bowed deeply. "Your Majesty."
The Empress Dowager studied her.
"You walk like someone raised without handlers."
"I was."
"You speak like someone who expects to be listened to."
"I do."
A pause.
"Yet you bow."
Sera met the woman's gaze evenly. "I'm foreign, not foolish."
That drew the faintest lift at the corner of the old woman's mouth.
A serving girl entered with a tray: three items. A fan. A scroll. A silk scarf.
"You may choose one," the Empress Dowager said.
Sera didn't move right away. "Is this a test?"
"Of course it is. Everything here is."
She approached the tray. Her hand hovered first over the fan—painted with a scene of white cranes in a blue sky. Then the scroll. Then the scarf, embroidered with phoenix feathers.
She chose the scroll.
The old woman nodded slowly. "Why?"
"Words endure longer than silk," Sera said. "And fans break when you strike too hard."
She handed the scroll to an attendant without reading it. She didn't need to.
The Empress Dowager regarded her for a long time.
"Lady Whitmore," she said softly, "do you know what we do with clever women in this palace?"
Sera's throat dried, but she forced a smile.
"Let them prove they're worth the trouble."
A flick of the old woman's finger dismissed her. Not harshly—but not with affection, either.
Sera bowed again, this time slower. Then turned and walked out the way she came.
Behind her, the Empress Dowager murmured to an attendant:
"She'll either steady the storm... or become it."