Lin Meiqi sat across from her father in the silk-draped interior of their carriage, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The rhythmic creak of the wheels did nothing to still her mind, which was already racing with calculations and contingencies.
Outside, the landscape rolled past in orderly green rows of farmland, the horizon tinged with the soft gold of early morning. She barely noticed.
"Are you frightened?" her father asked, his voice low.
Meiqi turned her head to him, offering a small smile. "No."
It wasn't a lie. Not exactly. She wasn't frightened in the way he meant. She was... thoughtful. Cautious. A little curious. But not afraid.
Her father sighed and leaned back. "This is not the path I wanted for you."
"But it's the one you chose." Her voice was calm. Gentle, but unflinching.
He winced, and for a moment, he looked smaller—not the merchant lord who had built three trade ports and owned fleets of spice ships, but a father weighed down by the things he'd never say aloud.
Meiqi looked out the window again. "The Emperor accepts tributes from every corner of the empire. Jade, horses, coin. You offered him me."
"You're more valuable than any jewel I've ever sold," he said quickly. "He will see that."
"I hope so," Meiqi murmured, more to herself than to him.
She didn't hate her father for sending her. She understood the game. Their family was ambitious but lowborn—new money, as the old houses sneered. A daughter in the palace could open doors no ship could sail through.
She just wished she'd been given more warning. One month ago, she'd been in the city of Yuezhou, translating contracts and studying foreign treatises. Now she was bound for the Imperial Palace, not as a scholar, but as a gift.
A girl in a gilded box.
The palace was near now. She could smell the sharp bite of sandalwood incense drifting on the breeze. When the carriage stopped, she stepped out alone. Her father remained inside. That, too, was part of the ritual.
A woman in crimson robes met her at the gates. "Lin Meiqi?"
Meiqi bowed. "Yes."
"You are to be brought before the Ministry of Inner Palace Affairs for assessment."
"I see."
She followed the woman through high gates and marble courtyards, past tiled roofs that shimmered like goldfish scales in the sun. Servants bowed as she passed, whispering behind folded sleeves. Meiqi ignored them all.
She walked with poise, but not arrogance. A girl taught to observe before acting.
By the time they reached the Receiving Hall, Meiqi felt a strange calm settle over her. She wasn't ready—but she didn't need to be. She only needed to listen, to learn, and to survive.
A boy with ink-stained hands handed her a scroll. "Your placement will be temporary until the Emperor grants audience," he said without looking up.
Meiqi took it, then glanced down the hall toward the throne room. The doors were closed. The Emperor was not yet ready to meet his new "gift."
That was fine. Let him take his time.
She would not be forgotten.