The days that followed were… different.
The tension in the Silent Palace shifted. It was no longer a simple standoff between captor and captive. It was a fragile, silent negotiation between two people who held world altering secrets. Lan Yue's attempted escapes ceased. Instead, she became a permanent fixture in the Grand Library, a silent, studious ghost among the stacks. Scrolls on celestial lineage, demonic history, and even treatises on inter realm political theory piled around her.
Empress Xue Lian, for her part, did not press. She did not return to Lan Yue's rooms with flippant remarks or proposed itineraries. Her approach was more subtle.
It began with the tea.
On the second day of Lan Yue's intensive research, a different servant a tall, silent demon with bark like skin entered the library and placed a pot of tea and a single cup on the table beside her without a word. It was the same star bloom tea from the garden. Lan Yue eyed it with suspicion for a full hour before the scent and her parched throat won out. It was, as promised, excellent and not poisoned.
The next day, it happened again. This time, there were two delicate pastries on the plate beside the pot.
On the third day, the Empress herself brought the tea.
She didn't make a grand entrance. Lan Yue simply looked up from a particularly dense passage on soul forging rituals to find Xue Lian setting the tray down on a nearby table.
"No Gleeb today," the Empress said, her voice quiet in the library hush. "He's having his epic poetry evaluated by the court bard. It's a whole thing." She poured two cups this time. "I was passing by. Thought you might have questions the scrolls can't answer."
Lan Yue watched her, her guard still up, but the outright hostility was gone, replaced by a wary curiosity. "And you would answer them? Honestly?"
Xue Lian handed her a cup. "I've found honesty to be a surprisingly effective strategy with you. It's more exhausting than lying, but the results are more stable." She took a sip of her own tea. "So? Ask."
Lan Yue hesitated, then chose a safe, academic question. "This text speaks of the 'Vermillion Bird Purges.' It claims the righteous sets slaughtered an entire demon clan for refusing to submit to human rule. My sect's texts call it a 'great cleansing of a feral demon horde.' Which is true?"
Xue Lian's lips quirked. "Starting with the heavy stuff. I like it." She leaned against the table. "The truth is in the middle, as it usually is. The Vermillion Bird Clan was proud and refused to bow to anyone. They also raided human border villages. Your sect's elders saw a threat and eliminated it. My archives see martyrs defending their autonomy. History is written by the victors, and edited by everyone who comes after."
It was not the dogmatic answer of a tyrant or a saint. It was the nuanced, cynical answer of a historian. Or a ruler.
Another day, the question was about the palace's energy flow. Another time, it was about the economic principles behind her trade reforms. Each time, Xue Lian answered directly, with a sharp intelligence that Lan Yue couldn't help but respect. They spoke of governance, of energy theory, of history. They did not speak of Enigmas, of heirs, or of the future.
It became a routine. The Empress would appear in the late afternoon with tea. They would talk. Sometimes it was for only a few minutes, sometimes for an hour. The conversations were never personal, yet Lan Yue felt she was learning more about the true Xue Lian in these exchanges than she ever could have through force or fear.
She learned that the Empress hated wasteful paperwork but loved complex logistical problems. That she had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor that often went over the heads of her demonic courtiers. That she viewed her role not as a divine right, but as a tremendously difficult job that needed to be done well.
One afternoon, Xue Lian was late. Lan Yue found herself not reading, but staring at the doorway, waiting. When the Empress finally arrived, she looked harried, a faint smear of ink on her cheek.
"Apologies," Xue Lian said, setting down the tray with a slight clatter. "Archduke Jin decided to have a minor meltdown over the agricultural yield reports. He believes the new farming techniques are 'unnatural.'"
"And what did you tell him?" Lan Yue asked, surprising herself with her interest.
"I told him that so is breathing underwater, but the Fish Scale Demons seem to manage it just fine, and if he was so fond of 'natural' he could go eat raw, unseasoned hell boar like they did in the good old days." Xue Lian rolled her eyes, a shockingly human gesture. "He stomped out. It was very satisfying."
Lan Yue felt the faintest ghost of a smile touch her own lips. She quickly schooled her features. "You enjoy provoking him."
"It's a highlight of my week," Xue Lian admitted, pouring the tea. "It's important to keep the old guard on their toes. Complacency is the death of an empire."
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, drinking their tea. It wasn't the silence of enemies or of a prisoner and her jailer. It was the silence of two people sharing a quiet moment after a long day.
Lan Yue glanced at the Empress. The ink smear was still there. Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers pausing just inches from Xue Lian's face. "You have…" she started, then froze, realizing what she was about to do.
Xue Lian went perfectly still, her amber eyes wide with surprise. She didn't pull away.
Lan Yue's hand hovered in the air for a heart stopping second before she slowly, carefully, brushed her thumb against the Empress's cheek, wiping away the smudge of ink. The skin was smooth, and surprisingly warm.
She pulled her hand back as if burned, her own cheeks heating. "Ink," she mumbled, looking down at her lap.
Xue Lian brought her own fingers up to her cheek, touching the spot where Lan Yue's had been. A slow, genuine smile spread across her face, one that reached her eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It transformed her face from beautiful to breathtaking.
"Thank you," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I must have looked very undignified."
"You look…" Lan Yue trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. You look… not like a monster.
The moment stretched, fragile and charged with something new. The air between them was no longer filled just with political intrigue and cosmic secrets. It was filled with the simple, terrifying awareness of two people sitting very close together.
Xue Lian was the first to break the spell. She cleared her throat gently and picked up her tea cup again. "So," she said, her tone light but her eyes still warm. "Any more questions about the economic impact of imported mortal legumes today? Or are we done with the heavy lifting?"
The moment passed, but the crack it had made in the wall between them remained. The slow burn had found its first, real spark.