After a tense, silent breakfast in the dining hall, the ladies were led to the eastern wing of the palace. Lady Klara announced that the morning was reserved for an open practice session in preparation for the upcoming Test of Grace.
The doors opened to a series of grand chambers, each filled with various instruments, canvases and writing desks. A few ladies immediately gravitated toward the musical instruments, their fingers already itching to prove their skill. Others chose to practice their calligraphy or poetry.
"You're not going to practice?" Lyra who had walked in with her asked, her eyes filled with a gentle concern. "I saw you didn't go for any of the instruments earlier. The Test of Grace is a week away."
"I'm aware," Daphne said, her tone polite but firm.
Lyra seemed to understand the finality in her voice. "I see. I suppose I will go practice my drawing. It's not a strong point, but I must try. I hope to see you later, Lady Daphne."
"I hope so too," Daphne said, offering a small, kind smile. Lyra gave a small nod and continued down the hall, disappearing into the drawing room.
She had spent countless hours practicing in her past life, mastering ancient melodies and complex finger techniques to please the Emperor but she knew that to reveal her talent now would be a mistake. Her beauty was already a target; to add a well-honed skill would only make the bullseye bigger.
Daphne slowed her pace, drifting toward a quiet corner near a corridor. She pretended to adjust a stray thread on her dress, her eyes casually scanning the area. A young man in a servant's tunic pushed a cart filled with fresh linens. He had a mop of unruly brown hair and a quiet demeanor. It was Kael.
Daphne stepped out of the way just as he passed. "The palace is quite grand," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Kael's head remained bowed, but his voice was equally low. "Yes, Lady Daphne. It has many hidden rooms."
"I was wondering if you've had a chance to observe the kitchens. I'm quite curious about the new recipes they're using." Her words were coded, a test of his findings.
Kael adjusted his cart, his movements deliberate. "It is a busy place, filled with all sorts of new ingredients. Some of the spices are not from our lands, if you understand me."
Spices not from our lands. It was their code for poison.
"I see," she said, her voice still quiet. "What did you find?"
"A particular kind of poison is being used, one that is slow-acting and hard to detect. It is not something that would kill immediately, but would weaken over time," Kael said. "It is in a paste form, which is used to enhance the flavor of a many dishes the consorts consume. My investigation is still in progress, I will let you know what I find."
"Be safe," Daphne whispered.
"I will," Kael responded. "Be careful, Lady Daphne. The Empress is dangerous."
He gave her a single, respectful nod and continued on his way, pushing the cart down the hall. Daphne's blood ran cold.
Daphne quickly found a secluded seat in the quiet. She pulled a book from her bag, one of the many books and scrolls Alaric had given her during his visit to her room. Its cover was cleverly disguised to read Imperial Melodies: A Guide to Court Lutes, but the pages inside held a different, more ominous song.
She opened the book, her eyes scanning the script. The text was detailed on a rare and untraceable poison. It was a thick, gray paste that, when mixed with food, would slowly degrade a person's fertility. The book confirmed Kael's findings, explaining that the concoction was a mixture of seemingly harmless, common spices.
Separately, they were harmless, but their combination created a potent, silent threat. It seemed the kitchen staff themselves had no idea they were preparing poison. The Empress was smart. The ingredients were truly good spices, but their combinations would cause infertility over time. To increase its potency, she made sure the ingredients were used in many meals, not just one.
Daphne's hands trembled slightly as she read, the past and present colliding in her mind. This was it. This was what had happened to her and the other concubines in her previous life. A slow, methodical poisoning that left no trace and caused no immediate alarm. It was designed to keep the women from bearing children and challenging the Empress's power. It was a perfect, sinister plan.
This gave her a clear objective: she had to find the Empress's agent in the kitchen.
She glanced around the quiet library, a wave of urgency and frustration washing over her. She had a lead, a dangerous, vital piece of information. She needed talk to Alaric. He had said he would assign a knight to her, but he hadn't introduced the person directly. She had to be patient, had to wait for him to reach out. She hoped he would do so soon, before the it was too late.
...
Soon, the Imperial maids began summoning the ladies for the 5 PM dinner. The dining hall was a different scene than it had been that morning. Many of the ladies looked exhausted, their hair slightly undone, their elegant gowns wrinkled from a day spent practicing their talents. Several arrived late, their faces pale with panic as Lady Klara's stern gaze fell upon them.
Daphne, along with Lady Lyra and some others, had been punctual. She settled into her seat and felt a quiet sense of relief as the same maid from this morning, placed a plate of food before her.
After dinner, Lady Klara stood before them. Her expression was devoid of any warmth. "Ladies," she began, her voice echoing through the silent hall, "you have survived your first day in the Imperial Palace. For those who remain, congratulations."
"Sadly, I have to announce that many of you did not live up to the standard of this competition. After a thorough review of the day's events, 230 ladies have been disqualified."
A gasp of shock and dread swept through the hall. Two hundred and thirty. The number was astronomical for a single day. Lady Klara didn't flinch as she listed the reasons. "Some were disqualified for being late to meals, even by a minute. Others were caught wandering into forbidden wings of the palace. And others still were caught arguing with their roommates, a clear violation of our rule of unity."
The reality of the competition settled over the remaining contestants like a shroud. The whispering stopped. Faces that had been flushed with ambition were now ashen with fear. This wasn't a game for a prize; it was a ruthless culling.
The competition was getting very real.
Then, a eunuch, his face as cold and unreadable as a marble statue, stepped forward. He held a scroll in his hands and began to read, his voice flat and impersonal.
The list was long. Name after name was called out in a steady, monotonous rhythm. The sound was like a hammer, each name another nail in the coffin of a young woman's hopes. Some ladies openly wept, while others simply stared ahead, their faces a mask of shock. The silence was only broken by the muffled sobs.
When the last name was read, Lady Klara spoke again. "The disqualified ladies will be escorted from the palace tonight. The rest of you should take this as a lesson. Your every move is watched. Your every action, judged."
She paused, letting the words sink in. "After breakfast tomorrow, you will all be given new rooms and new roommates. This is to ensure you do not grow complacent." She then checked a clock on the wall. "It is now 5:50. You have ten minutes to get back to your rooms. Do not be late."
A collective wave of panic washed over the remaining contestants. Without a word, they scrambled to their feet, their polite grace replaced by frantic urgency. They rushed toward the doors, their silks swishing and their jewelry rattling as they hurried back to their sleeping quarters.
Daphne walked with quiet composure. When Lady Klara announced the new room assignments, a flicker of dread crossed the faces of every woman around her, but Daphne remained utterly still. The news did not affect her. She had a private, unshakeable confidence in Alaric's power. She knew he had promised her protection, and he would deliver on that promise.
As she walked out of the dining hall, she caught the slightest, almost imperceptible nod from Lady Alice. It was a silent, professional confirmation of what Daphne already suspected. The arrangement was still in effect. She would not be getting a new roommate. Her sanctuary remained her own.
She had a secret weapon: the General's unwavering protection.