The morning sun flooded the penthouse, but it could not chase away the gloom hanging over the marble dining table.
Su-yin sat with perfect posture, picking at a plate of exotic fruits. Across from her, Julian was pacing, his phone pressed to his ear. He was speaking in hushed, angry tones.
"I told you, she's recovering... No, Silas, you can't just call an emergency vote... It's been three days! ... Fine. Tell the Board what you want. We'll be there."
He hung up and slammed the black mirror onto the table. He ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted.
Su-yin observed him calmly. She plucked a grape.
"The wolves are howling," she noted softly. "Who is the Alpha leading the pack?"
Julian sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite her. "It's not good, Elena. I'm not going to lie to you. The Board of Directors—the people who help oversee the company—they're panicking."
"Explain," Su-yin commanded. "And do not use the strange words of this era. Explain it to me as if I were a child. What is happening to my... empire?"
Julian looked at her, surprised by her tone, but he nodded. He grabbed a salt shaker and a pepper shaker.
"Okay. Imagine this salt shaker is the company. And this pepper... is the public's trust."
He moved them apart.
"Because of the scandal... because people think you traded favors for success... the 'Stock'—the value of the company—has crashed. It is at an all-time low. That means the company is worth half of what it was last week. The merchants, the buyers, the investors... they are all fleeing."
Su-yin nodded slowly. "The reputation of the house is soiled, so the patrons stop coming. And the gold stops flowing."
"Exactly," Julian said, relieved she understood. "But there is a bigger problem. There is a man named Silas Thorne."
Su-yin raised an eyebrow. "A name that sounds like a briar patch. Who is he?"
"He's the oldest member of the Board. He's been waiting for a chance like this for years. He claims you are too emotional, too unstable, and now, too scandalous to lead."
Julian leaned forward, his eyes intense.
"Silas is old enough to be your father, Elena. He's proposing a deal. He wants you to step down as CEO. He wants you to give up the throne. In exchange, he says they will let you stay on the Board as a silent member. You'll keep your salary, you'll be safe, but you will have no power. He will run everything."
Su-yin's hand stopped halfway to her mouth. She lowered the grape back to the plate.
The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"He wants me to retire to the Cold Palace," she whispered.
"What?"
"In my... in the stories I know," Su-yin corrected herself, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "When an Emperor grows tired of a Queen, but cannot kill her, he sends her to a remote villa. She is fed, she is clothed, but she is forgotten. And the Concubines fight to take her place."
She looked at Julian. "This Silas... he acts like a concerned elder, does he not? He says he only wants to 'save' the company from my mistakes?"
"That's exactly what he says," Julian said, clenching his fist. "He's painting himself as the savior. He says a young woman can't handle the pressure."
A cold, beautiful smile spread across Su-yin's face. It was not the smile of a victim. It was the smile of a hunter who just spotted prey.
"A tale as old as time," she mused. "The old minister thinks the young Empress is weak because she bleeds. He thinks that because my reputation is tarnished, my claws are dull."
She stood up, the silk of her robe flowing around her like royal vestments. She walked to the window and looked out at the Glass Fortress—Vance Tech—shimmering in the distance.
"Julian," she said, her voice steel.
"Yeah?"
"Does this Silas have secrets?"
"Everyone has secrets, El. But he's very careful."
"Good. Careful men are arrogant. They believe they are untouchable." She turned back to him. "Reject his offer."
Julian blinked. "Elena, if we fight him, he might force a vote. If we lose, you lose everything. You won't even be on the Board."
"I do not accept half-measures," Su-yin declared. "I do not accept the pity of old men who covet what I have built. If he wants my seat, he must come and take it while I am sitting in it."
She walked past the table, her fingers trailing over the black mirror—the phone—that she still did not know how to use.
"Prepare the carriage, Julian. And bring me my finest armor."
"Armor?" Julian asked, confused.
Su-yin looked toward the massive walk-in closet.
"My clothes," she said. "If I am to face a usurpation, I must look like a Queen who cannot be toppled."