I ducked through the inner flap and the air turned sharp, like someone had opened a freezer in hell.
The Jade Twins knelt dead centre on a black bearskin rug, wrists locked behind them with the same golden chains I remembered sketching at 2 a.m. because "regular rope is boring."
Their imperial robes were still perfect: layers of pale jade silk, white inner linings, tiny golden phoenixes that cost more than most kingdoms.
Only difference from the palace portraits: both of them were breathing like they'd sprinted ten li.
Lin Meiyue (elder, sharper cheekbones, eyes that could freeze a dragon's blood) stared pure murder.
Lin Meixiang (softer mouth, same face) kept her gaze on the rug, but I caught the quick flick upward, curious, terrified, already guilty.
Four guards bowed out. The flap dropped. Silence so thick you could chew it.
I took my time walking a slow circle.
The chains gave just enough slack for posture but not comfort. Every tiny shift made silk slide over skin; I'd written that on purpose. Past-me was a petty genius.
I stopped behind them.
"Morning, princesses."
Meiyue's spine went ramrod straight. "When the Heavenly Empress–"
"–sends an army that's currently learning what four hundred thousand angry veterans feel like," I finished, calm. "We've covered that."
Meixiang made the tiniest sound. Not quite a whimper.
I stepped around to face them again, crouched so we were eye-level with Meiyue.
"Lin Meiyue," I said softly. "Sword prodigy. Ice-affinity genius. Swore on your ancestor's grave you'd die before kneeling to anyone."
Her pupils shrank to pinpricks.
I shifted to Meixiang. "Lin Meixiang. Same bloodline, softer heart. Already wondering if your sister's pride is worth both your lives."
Meixiang's breath hitched hard enough to flutter the silk at her throat.
I straightened.
"The chains come off in thirty seconds. You won't run. Wards. Guards. And honestly?" I smiled, small and lazy. "Part of you wants to see what happens next."
Meiyue barked a laugh that cracked halfway through. "You're delusional."
"Frequently," I agreed. "Let's test it."
I touched the golden links. They melted into warm sparks that soaked into their wrists like expensive perfume. Both girls jerked, rubbing the faint red marks.
Freedom. Sort of.
I walked to the low ebony table, poured three cups of dawn-nectar (basically fantasy Red Bull mixed with honey and sin), and set two cups in front of them. "Drink. Dehydration looks bad on royalty."
Meiyue didn't move. Meixiang glanced at her sister, swallowed once, then bent awkwardly and sipped from her cup without hands. A stray drop rolled down her chin; her tongue chased it, cheeks going scarlet.
Meiyue watched like her sister had just stabbed her in the back.
I let the silence cook them for a full minute, then spoke again, conversational.
"Tomorrow your outer palace burns. Tonight we find out how much of that famous Xia pride is actually negotiable."
I took a slow sip from my own cup.
Meiyue found her voice. "Touch us and you'll lose the hand."
"Probably," I said. "But not before you lose something else."
Meixiang's cup rattled as she set it down too hard.
I stepped closer, close enough that the faint heat coming off my armour brushed their faces.
"Stand up."
They didn't. I waited. Ten seconds. Twenty.
Meiyue surged to her feet first, qi flaring cold enough to frost the air around her ankles. Meixiang followed half a heartbeat later, trembling.
Perfect height: both barely reached my collarbone. I'd written them short on purpose. Size difference is king.
Meiyue's hands curled into fists. "I will kill you for this."
"You're welcome to try," I said, genuinely curious.
She lunged, palm strike aimed at my throat, ice qi sharp enough to cut steel.
I didn't move.
The strike stopped an inch from my skin. Her whole arm shook. Something warm bloomed under her sternum (first whisper of the Conqueror's Mark, Level 0.5 at best). Her eyes went wide with absolute betrayal.
Meixiang made a tiny, wounded animal noise and took one involuntary step toward me before catching herself.
I tilted my head at Meiyue.
"Sit."
Her knees buckled like someone cut the strings. She hit the rug hard, robe pooling around her.
Meixiang's legs followed a second later, gentler, like she was apologising to the floor.
I crouched again, this time between them.
"See? The body already knows what the mind hasn't accepted yet."
Meiyue's voice came out cracked. "What… did you do?"
"Nothing permanent," I said. "Yet."
I reached out, slow enough for them to track, and brushed a loose strand of silver hair from Meiyue's cheek. She flinched like I'd slapped her, but didn't pull away.
Meixiang's breathing had gone shallow and fast.
I let my thumb rest against Meiyue's jaw for three heartbeats, then withdrew.
"Outer robe," I said quietly. "Off. Both of you. Slowly."
Meiyue's hands moved before her brain caught up, fingers on the golden sash.
She froze, horrified.
Meixiang's fingers were already untying, trembling, tears balancing on her lashes.
I watched, patient.
The first layer of jade silk slid from Meiyue's shoulders like water. White inner robe underneath, high collar, thin enough to hint at everything and show nothing.
Meixiang followed a breath later, movements softer, like she was trying not to wake someone.
Two identical masterpieces, half-undressed, kneeling again without being told.
I exhaled, slow.
Past-me really knew how to write tension.
Outside, the camp drums shifted to the pre-battle rhythm, deep, steady, inevitable.
I stood.
"Twenty minutes until I address the army. You'll stay here. Naked or not is tomorrow's problem."
I turned to leave, paused at the flap.
"Oh, and Prince Wei Lun?" I said without looking back. "He cried when I took his sword yesterday. Thought you should know."
Meiyue made a sound like something inside her snapped.
Meixiang just bowed her head, silver hair spilling forward to hide her face, shoulders shaking with what might have been sobs or something else entirely.
I stepped back into the main tent.
Aria was leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, smirk sharp.
"Thorough enough, my king?"
"Barely started," I said.
The sun was higher now. The army was hungry for war.
And somewhere across the Crimson Plains, a three-hundred-year-old virgin empress woke up tasting frost and something dangerously close to anticipation.
I rolled my neck, felt the armour settle like it was eager, and grinned at nothing.
Day one, and the continent was already rewriting itself around me.
I couldn't wait to see what broke first.
To be continued...