The fragrance of sandalwood lingered faintly in the air as Consort Yun sat by the carved redwood dressing table, her jade hairpin trembling slightly with every tilt of her head. A silk screen separated her from the rest of the chamber, but beyond that veil of painted cranes and plum blossoms, trouble brewed like a tempest ready to devour the stillness of the court.
"How curious," she murmured, watching her reflection in the polished bronze mirror. "The Empress remains quiet after the Dowager's audience… as if plotting in silence."
Her maid, Meiyu, kept her head bowed. "Your Grace, perhaps the Empress is simply retreating to avoid suspicion."
Yun let out a dry laugh. "Retreat is only the beginning of a deeper thrust. If she does not strike soon, someone else will."
Indeed, someone already had.
The death of Lady Ruolin had sent ripples through the harem. Found poisoned in her bath, her lifeless body adorned in rose petals, her lips slightly parted as if mid-confession—it was a death too quiet for someone known to wield sharp words and sharper ambitions.
But Yun knew better.
Ruolin had information. Information that could tilt the balance of the court.
A knock came at the outer chamber.
"Speak," Yun called.
The door slid open slightly, and a eunuch's voice filtered in, urgent and low. "Consort Yun, Noble Consort An seeks an audience."
Yun's brows rose. "Now? She dares come here after what she's done?"
Meiyu glanced at her in alarm. "Shall I refuse her?"
"No. Let her in. It's always more entertaining to watch a snake slither than to pretend it doesn't exist."
Moments later, Noble Consort An entered, dressed in a crimson robe embroidered with phoenixes that shimmered like flame. Her makeup was flawless, but her eyes were restless, flicking across the room before settling on Yun.
"Sister Yun," she greeted with a half-smile, "may I speak freely?"
"That depends," Yun said coolly, "on whether your tongue seeks truth or more poison."
An winced. "You think I had a hand in Ruolin's death?"
"Didn't you?"
Silence hung between them like a guillotine waiting to drop.
An exhaled, her hands clenched tight around her sleeve. "I came because I know who did."
Yun's gaze sharpened. "Go on."
"The Empress."
Yun blinked slowly. "The Empress? You would point your blade so high?"
"She had motive. Ruolin discovered the Empress's connection with Minister Han—letters, coded messages. Treason, if interpreted correctly."
Yun's heart beat faster. "Do you have these letters?"
An hesitated. "No. But Ruolin kept them hidden—somewhere in her palace. And I believe the Empress has already retrieved them… or is searching for them now."
"Convenient," Yun said, rising to her feet. "You offer accusations without proof. What exactly do you want from me?"
"A pact," An said. "You and I… we're not so different. I know what the Emperor whispers in your ear at night. I know the Dowager favors your composure. And I—" her voice lowered, "—I know the Empress fears you."
Yun crossed her arms, thoughtful. "And in this alliance, you offer what?"
"My eyes. My ears. My loyalty."
Yun tilted her head. "Loyalty is currency too easily spent in this court."
An stepped closer, her voice trembling just enough to reveal sincerity—or a skillful mimicry of it. "If we don't act, the Empress will. And when she does, she won't just stop at us. She'll bring the entire harem to heel… and turn us into footnotes."
Yun studied her for a long moment. Then she smiled, slow and cold.
"Very well. But understand this—if you lie, if you twist this web to bind me… I will not hesitate to cut the thread. And you will not see the blade before it finds your throat."
An bowed. "Understood."
As the other consort departed, Yun turned to Meiyu. "Send word to Eunuch Zhao. I want Ruolin's chambers searched… tonight. Quietly. Discreetly. Leave no pillow unturned."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Yun gazed at the mirror again, her reflection fractured by the morning light. A pact with a serpent was dangerous, but sometimes, it took venom to kill venom.
Outside, the palace stirred with rumors. The Empress remained unseen for days. Some said she was ill. Others whispered she was in prayer.
But Yun knew better.
The game had changed.
No longer was it about who gained the Emperor's favor. Now, it was about survival.
And if the Empress had truly crossed the line into treason, then Yun would be the blade that cut her down—quietly, cleanly, and with a smile.
Just as the court had taught her.