Ashfall Province was a pain in the ass.
It was the Netherworld's equivalent of a stubborn, backwards county that resisted change on principle. The local lord, a crusty old Earth Demon, had been deliberately misinterpreting her agricultural reform decrees, claiming the "new fangled mortal seeds" would "poison the sacred demonic soil."
Xue Lian had spent the entire day surrounded by the smell of sulfur and stubbornness, using a mix of imperial authority, logical argument, and not so veiled threats about reallocating his territory's water rights to finally bash some sense into his thick, rocky skull.
She was exhausted. Her robes were dusted with fine, grey ash. All she wanted was a hot bath and to forget the taste of overcooked hell boar that had been served at the obligatory and terribly catered reconciliation feast.
But as her personal transport a palanquin carried by four hulking, silent demons neared the capital, she saw the familiar glow of the Twilight Markets still open. On a whim, she ordered a stop.
The markets were a testament to her reforms: bustling, organized, and filled with goods from across the realms. Demons bowed deeply as she passed, but there was less fear now and more… familiarity. She nodded back, her imperial mask firmly in place, but her eyes were scanning the stalls.
She didn't need anything. The palace had everything. But her mind kept drifting back to the Silent Palace, to the library, and to a certain celestial prisoner who was probably buried in a scroll, her brow furrowed in that adorable way it did when she was concentrating.
She's been cooped up in that library for days, Xue Lian thought. She must be bored out of her mind.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she found herself at a stall selling rare crystals and polished stones from the deeper Netherworld veins. One piece caught her eye: a smooth, palm sized stone that was a deep, mesmerizing blue, but when the light hit it, it shimmered with veins of silver, like a tiny captured night sky. It was cool to the touch and hummed with a gentle, calming energy.
It looks like her eyes, was the absurd, impulsive thought that crossed her mind.
"This one," she said to the vendor, a nervous looking gem imp, not even bothering to haggle. She tossed him a pouch of gold that was worth ten times the stone's value. The imp nearly fainted with gratitude.
Next, she stopped at a confectioner known for sweets made from crystallized Netherworld nectar. She bought a small, ornate box of them. Something to eat that isn't palace food.
It was only when she was back in her palanquin, holding the two utterly unnecessary gifts, that the reality of what she was doing hit her.
She, the Demon Empress, was bringing souvenirs to her captive.
This is a strategic gesture, she told herself firmly. To maintain the positive rapport. To keep her amenable. It's part of the plan.
The plan that increasingly involved noting the exact shade of blue in a woman's eyes.
She arrived back at the Silent Palace late. The halls were quiet, most of the staff retired for the night. The journey to Ashfall and back had taken three days. Three days without their afternoon tea. The palace felt different. Colder. Or maybe that was just her.
She should go to her own rooms. She should bathe. She should sleep.
Instead, found her feet carrying her down the familiar corridor towards the guest wing, the blue stone and the box of sweets held tightly in her hand. Her reasoning was flimsy even to herself just to check on her. To make sure she hasn't tried to tunnel through the walls again.
She reached Lan Yue's door. There was no light from beneath it. Of course, it was the middle of the night. She was asleep.
Xue Lian stood there for a long moment, feeling foolish. The ash from her journey felt gritty on her skin. She was still wearing her travel dusted robes. This was unbecoming. Undignified.
But she couldn't seem to make herself leave.
She remembered the look on Lan Yue's face when she'd almost touched her tail. The shock, the embarrassment, the faint, fleeting laughter. She remembered the way the library felt when they were in it together charged, intelligent, alive.
Slowly, quietly, she knelt. She slipped the smooth blue stone and the small box of candies onto the floor just in front of the door, where they would be seen first thing in the morning. A silent, anonymous offering.
She rose and turned to leave, a strange, soft ache in her chest.
It's just the plan, she repeated to herself, walking away into the dark, quiet hall. It's all just part of the plan.