Chapter 1 – The Summons
The night wind bit through the thin silk of Li Yanyue's maid uniform as she knelt in the shadow of the Cold Palace wall, scrubbing stubborn soot from the stone tiles. The moon hung low, pale and cold, spilling silver light across the deserted courtyard.
The Cold Palace was where the Emperor's discarded concubines were sent to fade into dust—no one came here unless they had to. For Yanyue, the isolation was a blessing. She had learned long ago that safety meant being invisible.
A scrape of shoes against stone broke the quiet. She froze, head bowed.
A eunuch in deep crimson stepped out of the darkness, his thin face lit by the lantern in his hand. His gaze swept over her, impassive.
"Li Mei," he said, using the false name she had lived under for six years. "His Majesty summons you to the Inner Palace."
Her heart stopped.
She forced herself to look confused. "I… I think there's a mistake, Eunuch Zhang. I am but a menial maid—"
"His Majesty does not make mistakes," the eunuch interrupted coldly. "Wash your hands. Now."
Her fingers trembled as she obeyed, drying them on her apron. She could feel her pulse hammering in her throat. The Emperor never summoned low-ranking servants. To be called to him meant one of two things—great favor… or certain death.
And for her, it could mean something far worse.
The eunuch led her through the labyrinth of shadowed corridors, past walls painted with gold dragons and coiled clouds. The air grew warmer the deeper they went, heavy with sandalwood incense.
She kept her head low, her mind racing. Six years ago, the Li family was destroyed in a night of blood and fire. She had escaped only by shedding her name, her silks, and her identity. Now, she was Li Mei, a nobody. If the Emperor recognized her…
They reached the golden doors of the Imperial bedchamber. Twin guards bowed sharply and pushed them open.
The scent of ambergris and lotus wafted out. A single figure stood inside, his back to them, dressed in black robes embroidered with a five-clawed dragon.
The eunuch bowed. "Your Majesty, the maid is here."
The Emperor turned.
For a heartbeat, the world fell away.
His eyes—sharp, dark, and impossibly familiar—widened. The flickering lamplight caught on the hard lines of his face, but it was not the coldness that struck her. It was the flash of something like disbelief.
"You…" His voice was low, almost unsteady.
Her knees threatened to give out.
He stepped forward, each footfall echoing in the vast room. "You're alive…"
Her breath caught, the sound barely audible.
"Your Majesty?" she forced herself to whisper.
But his gaze only grew more intense, as if daring her to deny it.
The distance between them shrank to a single step. She could smell the faint spice of sandalwood clinging to him.
The Emperor Zhao Wenzhi stopped before her, the lamplight gilding his sharp jaw and high cheekbones. His eyes held hers like chains.
And then, softly, as though speaking to a ghost:
"Li Yanyue."
Cliffhanger: Her false name was shattered in the air between them.