Radiant Vale Palace had five hundred and sixty-two rooms, thirty-six pavilions, nine gardens, and one very serious problem:
Lyra Han was bored to death.
She lay sprawled on alounge couch in Jade Petal Hall, chin propped on one hand, toes wiggling lazily as a warm breeze drifted through the carved windows. Outside, spring sunlight poured over glazed tiled and flowering trees. Inside, the air smelled faintly of osmanthus pastries and roasted melon seeds.
A half-finished plate of snacks lounged on the low table. Beside it: an untouched etiquette manual about "The Virtuous Conduct of Imperial Consorts."
Lyra nudged the book further away with a single finger.
"Burn," she whispered.
The book, unfortunately, did not combust.
Across from her, her personal maid Piri stood nervously with a folded cloak in her hands.
"Miss, no Lady Lyra," Piri stuttered, "today is the Spring Offering Ceremony. All Consorts are to appear at the Hall of Fragrant Clouds to pay respects to His Majesty. Frau Lin from Orchid Hall says if you don't go again, people will say you're—"
"Dead?" Lyra offered helpfully.
Piri chocked. "Disrespectful!"
Lyra rolled onto her back and stared at the high ceiling, painted with fading clouds and gold.
Three years.
Three full years since entering the harem, and not even once had the emperor crossed her threshold. Not once had she been summoned. Not once had she glimpsed him up close.
Some might have wept, schemed, or plotted for his attention.
Lyra had counted days, then stopped.
No emperor on her nerves meant no pressure. There was no midnight summons, no jealous rivals poisoning her porridge, no need to pretend she enjoyed playing the zither at dawn.
Instead she had a large courtyard all too herself, albeit a bit poor than the rest but decent nonetheless. A reputation so non-threatening people forgot she existed.
It was bliss.
"Piri," she said, "if I appear today after disappearing for so long, wouldn't they remember I exist? That sounds risky no."
Piri wanted to cry. "But just standing in the back is fine! Please! If the palace supervisor marks your name again—"
The door slid open with a soft creak.
Tassa, Lyra's other maid, burst in and threw herself dramatically onto the rug.
"Lady Lyra, big news!" She hissed. "I just passed by the lotus corridor and heard the maids from Crystal Finch Hall whispering. Apparently, Lady Vestra ordered new jeweled hairpins worth three hundred gold just to catch his Majesty's eye at the ceremony. They say she also got silk delivered by the Emperor's enuch.
"Lovely. May her new silks itch."
A tiny bell rang.
Lyra froze.
It wasn't a real bell.
It chimed directly inside Lyra's skull. A clean bright Ding that made no physical sound but thrummed through her thoughts.
Then, a panel of blue light snapped open infront of her eyes.
She yelped and sat bolt upright.
"Lady Lyra?" Piri squeaked.
Lyra stared at the floating text only she could see.
[ WHISPER VAULT SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
[ Gossip Detected: "Lady Vestra's obscene hairpin budget." ]
[+1 Rumour Point]
[Welcome, Host.]
Lyra slowly reached for a melon seed.
She popped it into her mouth.
Chewed.
Swallowed.
"...I've finally lost it," she muttered.
The blue screen flickered.
[Correction: Host is mentally stable. Marginally lazy. Potentially useful.]
Her fingers tightened around the melon seed bowl.
"Who said that?"
Piri and Tessa exchanged surprised looks.
"I didn't say a thing!" Piri waved both hands.
"I also didn't!" Tassa said quickly.
Lyra glared at the empty air.
In response new lines appeared.
[I am the WHISPER VAULT SYSTEM.]
[Primary Function: collect gossip, and secrets. Convert them into rewards.]
Lyra stared.
"Is this hallucination, am I finally loosing it in this palace like the rest who did not get the emperor's favour. Is this how they eventually go mad?"
System:
[Not Hallucination. Bound to Host's consciousness due to proximity to concentrated imperial imperial fate.]
[In simple Terms: Your were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Congratulations. ]
Wrong place at the wrong time pretty much summed up her entire life since being drafted into the harem.
"Is this about Karma?" She asked it. "Because I stole a half sesame bun when I was six. That feels excessive."