Chapter 26: The Smile They Will Remember
The sky was pale with morning when I stepped onto the terrace outside my chambers. The air was cold enough to sting my lungs, but I welcomed it. It grounded me, reminded me that I was still alive, still breathing, still capable of shaping what would come next. Somewhere behind me, I could hear Jiu'er bustling about with my hair ornaments, her soft voice murmuring to herself as she checked and rechecked the lacquer box.
The palace was already stirring. In the distance, I could hear the muffled thud of guards changing shifts at the inner gates and the faint echo of servants calling to one another in the courtyards. The scent of morning rice drifted from the kitchens.
Today, every eye would be watching me. Every word, every breath, every glance would be measured, dissected, and tucked away for later. I had to give them exactly what they expected to see.
Inside, Jiu'er approached with the first layer of my robe, a soft sky-blue silk embroidered with magnolias. She draped it over my shoulders carefully, her hands steady now, though I could still sense the worry in the way she lingered at my side.
"You slept very little," she said quietly.
"I had things to think about," I replied, keeping my voice light.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she did not press the matter. Instead, she fetched the next layer, a deeper blue with fine gold stitching along the hem. I let her dress me piece by piece until the weight of silk felt like armor.
When she began to work on my hair, I sat still, staring at my reflection. The girl who had died on the jade floor was not here. In her place was someone sharper, colder, but no less beautiful. My eyes no longer wandered. They locked and held, steady and unreadable.
Jiu'er slid the final pin into place and stepped back. "You look perfect, Princess."
"Perfect is what they expect," I murmured.
The walk to the inner court was long, the kind of walk meant to strip you of your thoughts so that by the time you arrive, you are an empty vessel, ready to be filled with the will of the Emperor. I counted the stones beneath my slippers instead, keeping my mind sharp.
When I reached the Hall of Radiant Harmony, the doors were already open. Light spilled across the polished floor, and the scent of incense wrapped around me like a trap.
Inside, the court was assembled. Rows of ministers stood on either side, their robes a river of muted colors. The Emperor sat at the far end, gilded in morning light, his expression unreadable. At his side, as I knew she would be, sat Meiyan.
She looked exquisite. Her gown was a shade of pale rose that made her skin glow, her hair pinned with jade blossoms. She wore the expression of a woman who belonged exactly where she was.
I kept my pace even, my head bowed just enough to appear respectful without seeming meek. I could feel her eyes on me, and I knew she was studying me for weakness.
When I reached the center of the hall, I knelt. My voice was clear when I greeted the Emperor. "Your Majesty."
The Emperor inclined his head slightly. "You rise early today, Princess Lianhua."
"I wished to offer my respects before the day begins," I replied.
He studied me for a moment, his gaze heavy. Then he gestured for me to rise.
Meiyan's lips curved in the faintest smile as I stood. She tilted her head, a gesture so small it might have been mistaken for politeness. I knew better. It was the smile of someone who thought she had already won.
The court session began, a slow tide of petitions, reports, and ceremonial greetings. I listened, but my focus was elsewhere. I watched who spoke to whom, who avoided whose gaze, who seemed restless. Power in the palace was rarely about the words spoken aloud. It was in the silences, the glances, the sudden stillness when certain names were mentioned.
When the discussion turned to the upcoming Spring Festival, Meiyan leaned toward the Emperor, whispering something that made his mouth twitch in amusement. She did not look at me, but she did not need to. The deliberate tilt of her body toward him was a message in itself.
I let her have it. For now.
When the session ended, the Emperor dismissed the court. Meiyan rose gracefully, her sleeves flowing like water. She began to walk toward the side corridor that led to the private gardens.
I followed at a measured pace, allowing just enough distance that it could seem accidental. She did not glance back.
The corridor was long and lined with painted screens. At the far end, the sound of birds drifted in through an open doorway. The scent of early plum blossoms rode the air.
I reached the garden in time to see her greeting the Empress Dowager. The older woman sat beneath a pavilion, her hair silver, her robes heavy with intricate embroidery. Meiyan knelt before her, speaking in tones too low for me to catch.
I stepped forward, letting my shadow fall across the stones. Both women looked up.
"Your Majesty," I said to the Empress Dowager, bowing deeply. "I did not know you would be here this morning."
The Empress Dowager's expression softened, but Meiyan's smile froze for just a heartbeat before returning.
"I was discussing the arrangements for the Spring Festival," the Dowager said. "Meiyan has offered some very thoughtful suggestions."
"I am sure she has," I replied, keeping my tone smooth. "She has always had an eye for beauty."
Meiyan inclined her head, as if accepting a compliment, though I saw the flicker of calculation in her gaze.
We sat together for a time, speaking of music, decorations, and ceremonial rites. I offered small ideas, nothing bold enough to draw suspicion, but enough to insert myself into the planning. Every suggestion I made subtly shifted the balance of attention away from Meiyan and toward me. The Dowager began to address me more often, asking my opinion before she asked hers.
When we parted, Meiyan's smile was flawless, but her fingers curled slightly as she adjusted her sleeve. She had noticed.
Back in my chambers, Jiu'er was waiting. She poured tea without asking questions, though her eyes searched my face for signs of the morning's battles.
"How was court?" she asked.
"As expected," I said, lifting the cup. "And as planned."
She tilted her head, puzzled, but did not press me.
I drank the tea slowly, thinking of Jihao's words. Smile. Bow. Watch.
Today, I had smiled. Tomorrow, I would smile again. And the day after that. Until the day came when smiling would no longer be necessary.