The day of departure arrived beneath a pale spring sky. Fog clung to the stone streets of the capital, wrapping the city in a breathless silence.
Two carriages waited outside the Shen estate. One for Shen Lian. One for Shen Yue.
Inside hers, Shen Lian leaned against the window, her eyes half-lidded as the wheels began to turn.
Zhou rode with the baggage, dressed in a gray uniform, his face wrapped in a scarf like a low servant. But his eyes watched everything.
They passed vendors, temples, and bridges—until the palace walls rose on the horizon like a silent mountain.
At the midway rest stop, a group of girls argued beneath the flowering trees.
One of them accused Shen Yue of stepping out of line during introductions.
"I didn't—" Shen Yue stammered. "I was following the steward's signal."
"Yet somehow you were the first to be seen," another girl said coldly.
Shen Lian arrived just in time to smile and intervene.
"Sisters, the court favors grace, not volume. Shall we conserve our voices for poetry?"
They fell silent. Shen Yue flushed.
Later that night, in the lantern-lit courtyard of the rest inn, Shen Lian gave Zhou a folded note.
"A girl was swapped out on the third carriage," she said. "Her accent shifted halfway through the journey. Find out why."
Zhou nodded and vanished into the shadows.
By morning, he returned.
"She's not on the roster. Name and background falsified. Slipped in by someone with access."
Shen Lian's eyes narrowed. "A test. Or bait."
She looked up at the palace gates ahead. They were close now.
And this time, she would walk in not as prey.
But as a predator.