Yan stared up at the wooden ceiling of her bedroom, her mind still buzzing with the conversation she had overheard between Lord Azron and the four generals. The world beyond the gates of Mort City suddenly felt immense, almost suffocating in its vastness. Until now, she had not felt confined, but hearing about lands, battles, and strategies made the walls around her feel smaller. How vast was this world? How many adventures could she have in it?
Maybe in this world, she could finally move freely. If only she could slip past these walls without worry, without eyes tracking her every step.
Her thoughts were broken by a sudden, loud snore. Shrin. They shared a room, and Yan still hadn't grown used to the sheer volume.
Yan glared at her roommate, irritation creeping in. How tired must she be to snore this loudly? She tugged the blanket over her head, pressing it against her ears. Sleep had to come quickly—she could not risk being late tomorrow. The thought of Lord Azron's face twisting with anger if she arrived tardy sent a shiver through her.
…
Eight months had passed since she began working in the government office. Somehow, the news of her assignment to Lord Azron had spread among the city's single noble women. Every day, gifts arrived, piled high and colorful, each one an attempt to capture his favor. But each time Yan delivered them, Lord Azron's sharp gaze followed, cutting through the gesture, his annoyed voice low and clear: "Put that away."
Grand Ersi had told him he was past his marriageable age and needed an heir. Beautiful women lined the city, yet he refused to choose. Marriages here were mostly arranged—why this stubbornness? Yan muttered under her breath as she sorted through the flood of offerings cluttering her workspace.
I'm getting fat eating all these treats, she thought, stuffing a rice cake into her mouth. With Lord Azron refusing every gift himself, it had fallen to her to devour the sweets, while the material gifts accumulated in a corner, untouched.
She was focused on her task when a shadow fell across her. Lord Azron had arrived, silent, and Yan hadn't sensed him approach. She didn't notice him watching, his eyes catching the curve of her mouth as she chewed. He observed her weight subtly, the fullness from all the food, and a small, almost private smile tugged at his lips. She had grown a little chubby since the first day, healthier, and yes… more substantial than the fragile-looking girl he had first seen.
She nearly tripped over a gift, her balance faltering. Lord Azron's hands caught her wrists instantly. Shock froze her, but she made no sound. She stepped back and bowed slightly.
His gaze remained fixed on her, calm but commanding.
"Eat slowly, or you'll choke," he said quietly, his voice low, deliberate. "I don't want anyone dying here."
Yan slowed her chewing, the warmth of his attention sending a strange tingle through her chest. Why hadn't she sensed him? Was it that she had grown too comfortable, too at ease in his presence? Could it be… that she trusted him?
Lord Azron returned to his table, resuming his meticulous review of reports. Yan lowered herself into her chair, silent and careful. He hated distractions. And while all she did was sit and wait, the weight of peace settled over her. Working for him offered an unexpected calm—finally, she could let her guard down.
For her, the only danger in this place was Lord Azron himself. Shrin had warned her that no threat had ever reached Mort City, for everyone feared him. Killing was forbidden here. With him nearby, with his vigilance always present, she could finally sleep soundly.
The scent of incense hung heavy in the room, making Yan's eyelids droop despite her best efforts. She straightened her back, forcing herself awake, her gaze flicking to Lord Azron as he scanned the never-ending pile of scrolls on his table. Night had fallen hours ago, yet he remained, unwavering in his work.
This man works tirelessly for the peace of his people. Yan's chest tightened as she realized the difference between them. She killed only for herself, for survival, for escape. He… he sacrificed his freedom, his rest, and perhaps even his happiness to protect family, city, and legacy.
She tried to stretch her arms slowly, careful not to draw his attention. But she failed. Azron rose, straightening the folds of his robe.
"Follow me," he said, voice low and commanding.
Yan stood immediately, following him out into the night. They made their way to an old tower, not far from the government office. As they reached the top, Yan's eyes widened. The view of Mort City spread below them like a sea of lights—houses and streets glowing like a galaxy of stars. For the first time since arriving in this world, she felt a rush of joy, a pulse of life. The city, the lights, the crisp night air—it was beautiful. For her, this was another first, another gift from a strange, new world.
She glanced at Lord Azron standing beside her, barely a meter away. She wondered why he had brought her here.
"Peace is beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, eyes fixed on the city below. Yan smiled, almost unconsciously. Azron caught the movement out of the corner of his eye—her first real smile since she had started working for him.
She is…beautiful, he thought, quickly turning his gaze back to the city. Beauty meant little to him; it was the heart and the mind that mattered. Mort City was full of women who dazzled, but none had ever held his attention. And yet… her presence had become… different.
Azron hadn't anticipated growing used to her. She had been a puzzle, someone to watch, to draw close to, to uncover. Yet the months of observation had yielded nothing but quiet companionship. Nights spent working late no longer felt lonely. Her snores, filling the room with unexpected warmth, no longer annoyed him. Her clumsiness now brought amusement to his structured, ordered days.
He watched her yawn, struggled to keep upright in her chair, dressed always in those practical, masculine clothes. He observed her napping between the tall shelves after pouring over the old books, absorbed in Mort City's history. He had never seen anyone so captivated by these dusty tomes.
And he noticed the expressions that crossed her face whenever the noble ladies delivered yet another batch of gifts for him—her cheeks puffed as she munched relentlessly on the food they offered. He knew she hated it, yet there was something quietly endearing about the way she handled it all.
For Azron, Yan was more than capable. Smart enough to match, even surpass, the most educated noble women. She executed his orders flawlessly, despite her muteness and inability to ask for clarifications. And above all… she was calm. Unshakably calm. Nobody—not even his generals—could freely sleep in his presence, snoring as loudly as she did. Just the thought of it brought a faint, almost private amusement to him.
Though he did not fully trust her yet, somewhere deep within, he hoped she was good. That she was not a threat.
"You don't have to come to work tomorrow," he said, voice quiet but commanding.
Yan's head tilted slightly, curiosity sparking in her eyes. She wanted to ask why, but the mute act confined her. Words remained trapped inside her, unspoken.
"Look after Grandmother. Make sure she's okay," he added.
Yan studied him for a moment and understood. Another war was looming. The months of quiet, the soft rhythm of routine in the government office, had almost made her forget that the man beside her would inevitably return to battle. Concern coiled in her chest at the thought of his safety. But Lord Azron was a warrior like no other. Surely, he would survive. She forced herself to believe it.
The months spent alongside him, the quiet companionship, and the stories Grand Ersi had shared slowly carved a softness in her heart for him. A small, dangerous softness.
Night deepened around them, thick and heavy, as the two stood in silence. The city outside was dark, yet alive, while within the walls of the office, time seemed suspended. A fragile peace hung between them, electric with unspoken thoughts, wary trust, and something more—something neither dared to name aloud.
….
THREE MONTHS LATER
Shrin marched toward the old willow tree, her eyes sharp, scanning every branch and shadow like a hawk. The familiar resting spot was empty. Her gaze swept the surrounding grounds, searching, calculating.
Spotted.
Yan was jogging in tight circles near the fence separating Grand Ersi's chamber from the rest of the mansion. The roundness of her cheeks no longer betrayed weakness; ever since Shrin had teased her about looking cuter, Yan had committed to morning exercise, trying to shed the extra weight from all of Lord Azron's indulgent treats.
"Yan, I told you the new look suits you. You don't look sickly anymore," Shrin called, laughing as she approached. "Come on, I need your help to prepare the lanterns for the Moon Festival."
Festival. The word made Yan pause mid-step, a small smile lifting her lips. The thought of the celebrations thrilled her. Every year, Mort City honored the Moon Guardian, a protector among all the other deities and spirits they revered. For the first time, she would step outside the walls of Mort Mansion, walk the streets, visit the shops, see the city as it truly lived.
Yan fell in step behind Shrin as they carried the lanterns toward the hall. Her sharp eyes caught movement—a young soldier whispering to one of Grand Ersi's maids. Shrin had called him Fran, friendly enough, she said.
It was the second time this week that she spotted them. No one besides Lord Azron's four generals should be in the Grand's Chamber. Yan considered the possibility—maybe General Wang, left behind to guard the city, had ordered this inspection—but unease prickled along her spine nonetheless.
I'm sure it's nothing, she told herself, shaking her head.
With the last batch of lanterns arranged, Grand Ersi entered the hall. Both girls straightened and bowed, their movements crisp and polite.
"Yan, I want you to wear this to the festival," Grand Ersi said, approaching with warmth at every step. A maid presented a set of white silk garments, delicate and luxurious, adorned with jewels. "It was my daughter's. I want you to have it."
Yan's eyes widened as she examined the silk, its sheen as exquisite as the noble ladies'. She was about to shake her head to refuse, but the look on Grand Ersi's face—soft, proud, trusting—made refusal impossible.
It was her daughter's clothes and jewelry. How could she not accept it? Perhaps, just for the festival, she could try something new. The world felt quiet, peaceful… for now. Yan gave Grand Ersi a small nod and a tentative smile, feeling the thrill of her first real choice in this strange place.
....
MOON FESTIVAL
"Woah… I was right. You're far more beautiful than those noble ladies out there. Yan, you look like a princess!" Shrin's voice rang with awe and excitement as she helped Yan into the delicate silk garments and sparkling jewelry that Grand Ersi had entrusted to her.
Yan's gaze locked on the bronze mirror, and her breath caught. The reflection staring back at her was almost unrecognizable. The silk hugged her frame with fluid elegance, the jewels catching the light in soft bursts of gold and silver. Shrin's careful styling of her hair and makeup added a touch of grace Yan had never allowed herself to feel before. A small smile tugged at her lips.
"Let's go show Grand Ersi. She'll be thrilled," Shrin whispered, grabbing Yan's hand and tugging her gently along.
Grand Ersi's face illuminated the room the moment she laid eyes on Yan. "Look at you… You're so beautiful." Her hands moved to brush Yan's shoulders, trembling slightly as tears welled in her eyes.
Yan felt a pang of empathy, a sharp twist of understanding. This woman had lost a daughter, and yet here she was, shedding tears over someone else wearing her child's garments. Yan's chest tightened. She wanted to say something, to ease the ache, but her lips only curled into a faint, understanding smile.
Wiping her cheeks, Grand Ersi handed Yan a small, soft pouch. "Here. Buy whatever you like. Enjoy the day."
Yan's fingers brushed the pouch and her eyes widened as she glimpsed the silver coins within. She exchanged a quick look with Shrin, whose face mirrored her excitement. Grand Ersi had not only given her freedom of movement but the means to explore it.
"Go now," Grand Ersi said, her smile warm yet tinged with a mother's worry.
The gate of Mort Mansion opened to a sea of color and life. Lanterns swayed above the streets, flowers lined the thoroughfares, and the City teemed with people, all celebrating. Yan stepped forward, inhaling deeply. For the first time since arriving, she felt the air of freedom wrap around her like a cloak. The Mansion gate shut behind them with a resonant clang, and Yan's gaze was immediately drawn to a black ribbon tied around one of the gate's potted plants.