The palace was asleep.
From the high towers to the servant quarters, stillness ruled the night.
The wind was gentle tonight, brushing against silk-draped windows and sending faint ripples across the courtyard pools.
Lanterns flickered with dying flames, casting long, wavering shadows across the stone floors.
But sleep would not come to me.
No matter how tightly i shut my eyes, how many breaths i counted in silence, my body refused to rest.
Something inside me was unsettled, more than the sting of the wound hidden beneath layers of clean linen, more than the weight of being caged in gilded halls.
I rose quietly from my bed, careful not to disturb the curtains swaying beside the open window.
Elise was gone, her shift had ended, and she had left with a yawn and a reminder to call for her if i needed anything.
I didn't.
I tied my outer robe, soft blue silk embroidered with faded chrysanthemums, and secured the blade beneath my waist, disguised once again as an ornamented belt.
No one questioned the way it shimmered, not even the guards.
They saw beauty. They never looked close enough to see the steel beneath.
I moved through the corridors like mist, careful to avoid the moonlight.
The torches had been dimmed for the night. My footsteps barely made a sound against the polished floor.
I wasn't sure where i was going.
I only knew i needed air.
But as i turned the corner near the east garden steps, I heard voices.
Soft.
Female.
I slowed, pressed my back against the wall near the columns, and peeked through the carved wood lattice.
Two figures stood near the pavilion, the moonlight illuminating their pale sleeves. One of them, draped in elegant white with hairpins of silver orchid, stood tall with a poise only noblewomen perfected.
Lady Mei.
And beside her… a servant, head bowed low, wringing her hands.
My pulse stilled.
I leaned in, my breath caught halfway to silence.
"Forgive me," the servant whispered, her voice shaking. "I—I didn't mean to go that far. I panicked—"
"You did what you were told," Lady Mei cut in, her voice as smooth as lacquer, but cold as the mountain rivers. "There is nothing to apologize for."
My stomach dropped.
"You told me to scare her," the servant stammered. "Not to draw blood—"
"Plans change," Lady Mei said, stepping forward. "The Princess is clever. Too clever. If we don't keep her contained… she becomes a threat."
The servant's voice broke. "But if they find out I—"
"No one will find out." Lady Mei's tone sharpened, like porcelain shattering. "Do you understand me? No one. You will keep your mouth shut and keep your hands clean. From now on, you will only do what i say. Or the next blade won't land on the Princess."
The girl nodded frantically, tears now streaming down her cheeks.
A frame-up.
This entire time, they wanted me to look unstable, dangerous.
They were setting me up. Making sure no one would believe me if i said someone was trying to kill me or when i said i didn't kill or hurt them.
And Lady Mei… she wasn't just part of it.
She orchestrated it.
I backed away, careful not to make a sound, bile burning the back of my throat.
I walked quickly, no longer trying to hide my steps. If they saw me now, i'd only add to their theatre.
The unhinged princess, wandering the halls at night, blade beneath her robes, spying where she shouldn't.
Let them laugh.
Let them think i was retreating.
I wasn't.
She could have her performance for now.
The next time she slips…
I'll bury her alive.
I didn't return to my chambers.
The garden in the west wing was deserted, quiet save for the soft chirp of night insects and the gentle rustling of plum blossoms in the breeze.
I sat on the stone bench beneath the weeping tree, my hands resting on my lap, fingers brushing the hilt at my waist.
Above, the stars burned cold.
And the moon, full now, watched me with an indifference i had grown to understand.
In this place, mercy was not given. Kindness was not trusted.
You survived by becoming what they feared.
So be it.
I breathed deeply, letting the wind cool my face, letting my thoughts drift beyond the walls of this cursed palace.
Then—
a sound.
Footsteps?
No, softer than that. A shift of fabric against grass. A heel against stone. Too close.
Another rustle.
I stood, my spine straightening.
My hand slid to the blade at my waist.
I gripped it tight, pulled it free in one swift movement, the blade catching moonlight like flame.
"If you're here to kill me…Then come out," I said, voice low but clear, loud enough to reach the shadows. "Because i'm not afraid to die tonight."
Silence.
And then—
He stepped out.
Lucien.
He emerged from the dark like he belonged to it, draped in black robes trimmed with silver.
His face unreadable, expression carved from the same stone the palace stood on.
I didn't lower my weapon.
His eyes dropped to the blade still pointed at him.
"Why do you carry a sword?" he asked, voice quiet but sharp. "You know it's forbidden for the Crown Princess to wield weapons."
I didn't answer.
I sheathed it wordlessly and wrapped it again around my waist.
Then i turned my back to him and sat down on the stone bench as if he were no more important than the wind.
He followed. Sat beside me.
Neither of us spoke for a long time.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"I spoke with my guards," he said, still not looking at me. "I asked them if anyone had touched you."
I didn't move.
"One of them confessed," he went on. "Said he only wanted to test the rumors. About you. That you're trained. Skilled."
I didn't reply.
Because it was a lie.
That man hadn't struck to test me.
He had struck to kill.
Lucien's jaw was tight.
His hands were folded neatly on his lap.
Too still. Too composed.
"I punished him," he said. "He won't raise a hand again."
Still, I said nothing.
Because i didn't care about his punishment.
Because i knew this wasn't about one guard.
Because i saw the wound i left behind.
Because i recognized the angle of the cut.
Because his guard was working on someone's orders.
And Lucien, cold, calculating Lucien, was the only one who'd benefit if i vanished.
He stood after a while.
Didn't offer comfort.
Didn't ask forgiveness.
He simply turned his back and walked into the night, the hem of his robe dragging across the grass like a closing curtain.
The stars above didn't blink.
I looked at them anyway.
I whispered a vow beneath my breath, one only the sky would hear.
"The next hand that tries to silence me will never lift again."