Someone he'd killed once before.
That thought lingered in my mind as I stepped through the rear gates of the Lotus Pavilion garden. The sun had crept higher now, throwing long bars of light through the covered walkways. Even in this forgotten corner of the palace, the peonies were still forced to bloom.
Everything looked smaller than I remembered.
The pond I once crossed daily, where lotus blossoms bobbed beneath the carve bridge—it barely reached my waist now. The plum trees were thin and staked, not yet the twisted, flowering giants they would become. A young servant brushed fallen petals into a basket with a twig broom, unaware of the ghost passing behind him.
I walked slowly.
I was retracing memories in reverse. Seeking something, anything, that would confirm what my senses whispered:
This was real.
This was before.
I heard footsteps sounded behind me.
I turned, careful to make it look like I startled.
Two concubines passed beneath the archway, one holding a parasol embroidered with blue cranes, the other laughing softly behind a fan. Both wore pale lavender sashes—slightly higher in rank than mine.
But I only saw one of them.
Her.
She turned her head just enough, her profile catching the sun, and I froze.
Lady Wen.
At least, she would be in a year.
Now, she was younger. Softer in the face. No dark kohl around the eyes, no silk combs in her hair yet. But it was her. That same faint tilt of the mouth that never reached the eyes. That same way of walking—light, but calculated.
She had been part of the group that betrayed me. Not the sharpest fang, but a quiet voice that carried poison in whispers.
The others had suspected her involvement.
I had known.
And now—here she was. Innocent. Unaware. Prey.
My breath drew in slow, careful.
I lowered my gaze and turned aside before she noticed me. Let her memory of me be blank. Let her pass by thinking I was no one.
Because I would see her again. Later when it's time.
But for now, her presence confirmed what I needed.
Exactly ten years
She had not yet wormed her way into the ear of the Empress Dowager.
Consort Ning had not yet poisoned the harem with fear.
Zhao Yunxie had not yet offered me a red crown and a slow death.
I was early.
And this time, I would choose who dies—and when.