The moon was full and round, hanging above the palace rooftops like a silver coin. Music drifted across the courtyard, mingling with the fragrance of wine and roasted duck. Servants moved like shadows between the lantern-lit tables, bowing low to the gathered nobility.
I stepped into the main hall wearing a gown the color of midnight, stitched with silver thread in patterns of cranes. My hair was coiled into a high knot, pinned with a single pearl. Modest, compared to the jeweled splendor of the other ladies but I preferred it that way. It made me seem less threatening.
Until I opened my mouth.
The Crown Princess rose from her seat, smiling with eyes that held no warmth. "Lady Shi, you honor us with your presence. I hear you have unusual talents."
Her words were sweet, but the tilt of her chin was sharp as a blade. I returned her smile. "I do my best, Your Highness."
"Then perhaps you will grace us with a performance," she said, her tone casual. "A song. Or a dance. Something worthy of the Mid-Autumn moon."
Ah. A trap. She knew I had not been trained like the noble ladies who spent their days with silk fans and guqin strings. One mistake, one awkward step, and I would be laughed out of the hall.
I bowed. "Of course."
The murmur that followed told me they expected me to refuse. Instead, I walked to the center of the hall and asked for a guqin. When it was brought, I did not play the delicate court music they knew. I plucked the strings in a rhythm no one in that hall had ever heard before a melody from my own century, reimagined for this ancient instrument.
The tune rose and fell like a racing heartbeat, filling the room with a strange energy. Whispers turned to silence. Even the princes leaned forward, their eyes fixed on me.
When the final note faded, I set the guqin aside and met the Crown Princess's gaze. "A humble offering," I said softly.
She smiled, but there was tension in the way she gripped her wine cup. "Unexpectedly, Lady Shi. You have surprised us all."
The Third Prince's eyes lingered on me, unreadable. The Fifth Prince clapped slowly, his smile hinting at amusement.
As I returned to my seat, a folded piece of paper slipped into my palm. No servant had been close enough to give it. The handwriting was bold and sharp:
You are playing a dangerous game. Be careful whom you outshine.
I looked up and saw the Crown Prince watching me from across the hall. His expression was calm, but his gaze felt like a warning… or a promise.