The beast roared, but it had no mouth.
Su-yin sat in the passenger seat of Julian's car, her fingers digging so deeply into the leather armrest that her knuckles turned white. Outside the window, the world was smearing into streaks of color. They were moving faster than a galloping stallion—faster than an arrow.
"Slow," she whispered, her stomach lurching. "Can the beast not... trot?"
Julian glanced over, his hands resting casually on the wheel. "I'm going forty, El. We're barely moving. Are you feeling motion sick?"
Su-yin swallowed hard. She looked at the dashboard, glowing with strange runes and numbers.
"This carriage," she managed to say, trying to keep her voice steady. "It moves without horses. It is... remarkable."
Julian let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. He patted the steering wheel.
"It's a five-year-old Sedan, Elena. I know it's not the Bentley you have in your garage, but it gets me from A to B. I'm sorry it's a bit bumpy. We'll be at your place soon."
Su-yin blinked. He thought she was insulting his carriage? She was terrified by its sorcery, and he was apologizing for its lack of luxury.
The men of this era, she thought, are strangely fragile about their mounts.
She turned her gaze back to the window. As they crossed a massive bridge, the city unfolded before her.
It was a city of giants.
Towers of steel and stone pierced the clouds, dwarfing the tallest cathedral spires of Aethelgard. But one building stood out. It was a monolith of pure, reflective glass, shimmering like a diamond against the twilight sky. It looked impossible—a structure made of light.
"That," Su-yin pointed a trembling finger. "Who lives in the Crystal Tower?"
Julian followed her gaze. He smiled gently.
"That's Vance Tech, Elena. That's your building. Your office is on the top floor."
Su-yin's breath hitched.
My palace.
She had been a courtesan, living in the shadow of the King's castle. But this Elena... this woman owned a castle of glass that looked down upon the world. A thrill of power, hot and intoxicating, rushed through her veins, replacing the fear.
The Residence. 7:00 PM.
The car slowed. Su-yin expected a quiet courtyard. Instead, she saw a sea of people.
They were swarming the entrance of the building, holding black devices with massive glass eyes. As soon as they saw the car, the mob surged forward.
"Damn it," Julian hissed, locking the doors. "They found out you were discharged. The vultures."
He turned to her, his face serious. "Listen to me, Elena. Keep your head down. Don't look at them. I'll clear a path. Just look at the ground and walk fast."
Su-yin looked at the mob. She saw the hunger in their eyes. She had seen that look before—in the eyes of courtiers waiting for a favorite to fall from grace. They wanted fear. They wanted shame.
If she looked down, she admitted defeat.
"No," Su-yin said softy.
"What?"
"Open the door, Julian."
"Elena, they will eat you alive—"
"Open. The. Door."
There was a command in her voice that Julian had never heard before. It wasn't the frantic yelling of the old Elena; it was a cold, iron weight. He hesitated, then unlocked the doors.
Su-yin stepped out.
FLASH. FLASH. FLASH.
The world exploded into white lightning. The noise was a physical wall—shouting, questions, accusations.
"Elena! Is it true about the Senator?""Did you try to kill yourself?""How much did he pay you?""Look here! Elena, look here!"
Julian rushed to her side, trying to shield her with his jacket. "Back off! Give her space!"
But Su-yin did not cower.
She straightened her spine, pulling her shoulders back until her posture was perfect. She lifted her chin, exposing her throat—not in vulnerability, but in arrogance.
She remembered the teachings of the Flower House: When the wolves circle, you do not run. You become the statue they cannot bite.
She scanned the crowd. She found the camera lenses. And then, she did the unthinkable.
She smiled.
It wasn't a happy smile. It was the smile of a woman who knows a secret. It was a faint, mysterious curve of the lips, serene and untouchable.
"Elena! Are you ashamed?" a reporter screamed, shoving a microphone in her face.
Su-yin paused. She looked the man directly in the eyes, her smile widening just a fraction, terrifyingly calm. She said nothing. She simply held his gaze until he blinked, unsettled by her silence.
Then, with the grace of a swan gliding over dark water, she walked past him.
She moved through the chaos as if she were walking through a garden, her steps measured and fluid. The flashing lights reflected in her eyes, making them look like polished obsidian.
She did not answer a single question. She did not shed a single tear. She left them with nothing but her silence and that haunting, confident smile.
The Next Morning
The image was everywhere.
On newsstands, on TV screens, and on millions of phones. It was a high-definition shot of Elena Vance standing amidst a chaotic crowd of angry men. The lighting from the flashes gave her an ethereal halo. Her chin was up, her eyes were sharp, and that slight, enigmatic smile played on her lips.
The Daily Chronicle Headline:THE FACE OF SCANDAL.
The Online Blogs Headline:SHAMELESS OR CONFIDENT?
The media meant to mock her. They wanted to paint her as a sociopath who didn't care about morality.
But they miscalculated.
Across the city, and then across the country, women were looking at that photo. Women who had been shamed by ex-husbands, women who had been bullied in boardrooms, women who were told to hide their faces when things got hard.
They didn't see a villain.
"Look at her," a young intern whispered to her friend in a coffee shop, staring at her phone. "Everyone is screaming at her, calling her a whore... and she's just... smiling. She looks like a Queen walking through mud."
"She looks like she doesn't give a damn," the friend replied, zooming in on Elena's face. "God, I wish I could look at my boss like that."
In the penthouse, Su-yin stood by the window, looking out at her glass tower in the distance. She didn't know she had just become a symbol. She only knew one thing.
The first battle was won.
"Julian," she called out, turning away from the view. "I require dinner. And then... you must teach me how to use the black mirror that controls the world."