CHAPTER 11The First Morning
Sunlight sliced through the gaps in the blinds, painting stripes across the empty side of the massive bed. Luna woke alone, the silk sheets cool where a husband should have been.
For a moment, she lay still, listening. The estate was quiet in a way her family home never was—no servants bustling, no distant arguments, just the hum of... something. Climate control? Security systems? The digital heartbeat of the Wǎngshā empire.
She rose, wrapping herself in a robe of impossibly soft grey silk that had been laid out for her. On the dresser sat two objects: the jade hairpin from Fen, and beside it, the slightly lopsided paper crane.
She picked up the crane, running her thumb over its fragile wings. A promise, he'd said.
A soft knock at the connecting door to the study.
"Come in."
Leo entered, already dressed in a black suit that looked both expensive and effortless. He carried two cups of tea. "I wasn't sure how you take it."
"Just plain is fine," she said, accepting the cup. Their fingers brushed. Neither acknowledged it.
He stood awkwardly in the center of the bedroom, as out of place as she felt. "There's a family breakfast in half an hour. It's... mandatory."
"Mandatory," she repeated. "Like everything else here."
His eyes met hers. "The rules are the web. Break them, and you fall." He set his untouched tea on the dresser. "My grandmother will test you today. My mother will watch. My sister will likely make inappropriate jokes. My grandfather will say nothing and see everything."
"And you?"
"I'll be observing the data." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "It's what I do."
After he left, Luna dressed in one of the outfits provided—a simple but exquisitely cut dress in dove grey. She left her hair down, ignoring the hairpin.
As she left the room, she glanced back at the paper crane, still sitting alone on the dresser.