The maps blurred.
Not from heat or exhaustion or candle smoke, but from the way my eyes refused to focus, like even they were protesting the last seven days. The brush in my hand was still, ink drying on the bristles. I hadn't moved in ten minutes.
I didn't have the energy to.
The war room was cold and mostly dark. Just one candle burned near my elbow, flickering low against the curves of the Daiyu topography. I could hear the scribes outside, still sorting reports. The scent of ginger tea had long since faded. Somewhere, I'd left my scarf.
I should've gone to bed.
But the minute I lay down, my mind would start spinning again. Routes. Allies. Ghost coins and phoenix seals. Lady An's veiled smile. Yizhen's warning. Zhou Wen's cowardice. The Emperor's silence.
Too much.
Too fast.
And too alone.
I didn't flinch when the door opened behind me.
Didn't need to.
Footsteps I recognized. Gait like silence. Shadow before shadow.
