If there was one thing the palace excelled at, it was pretending nothing had happened.
After the Lotus Ceremony incident, the King ordered silence. No one was allowed to speak of the Crown Prince's hesitation, his strange behavior, or the way he had delayed the engagement announcement. Anyone who whispered too loudly found themselves reassigned, punished, or suddenly very busy elsewhere.
But silence did not mean peace.
It meant pressure.
Zhen Luo returned to his chambers that night with a calm face and a storm in his chest. He dismissed most of his attendants early, leaving only Feng Huai standing guard at the door.
"You're smiling," Feng Huai said flatly. "That usually means trouble."
Zhen Luo shrugged off his outer robe. "If I stop smiling, they'll know they're winning."
Before Feng Huai could reply, the window shifted—just barely.
A shadow slipped inside with the grace of a cat.
Feng Huai reached for his sword.
"Relax," Zhen Luo said casually. "If he wanted me dead, I'd already be a ghost."
Han Jian straightened from where he landed, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. "Your Highness, you wound me. I worked very hard not to trip."
Feng Huai stared. "You climbed the palace wall."
Han Jian smiled sweetly. "I prefer the term arrived dramatically."
Zhen Luo waved Feng Huai away. "Stand outside. If anyone asks, I'm meditating."
Feng Huai hesitated, then sighed. "One day, this will kill me."
When the door closed, the air changed.
Zhen Luo turned slowly. "You shouldn't be here."
Han Jian walked closer, eyes sharp but amused. "And yet you didn't stop me."
They stood too close. Not touching. Not daring.
The tension was almost funny.
"They're speeding up the engagement," Zhen Luo said quietly. "Li Shuran will be announced officially within the month."
Han Jian tilted his head. "And?"
"And the Queen has assigned her people to watch me. Closely."
Han Jian laughed softly. "Congratulations. You're officially caged."
Zhen Luo's lips curved. "Then you'd better be careful. Visiting a caged beast is dangerous."
Han Jian leaned in, voice dropping. "Good. I like dangerous things."
For a moment, Zhen Luo forgot the palace, the throne, the marriage waiting to suffocate him. He only saw the boy before him—the one who wore cruelty like silk and hid pain behind laughter.
"Why are you helping me?" Zhen Luo asked suddenly.
Han Jian's smile didn't fade, but something colder flickered beneath it. "Because you're useful."
"That's not the truth."
Han Jian met his gaze. "No. But it's close enough for now."
Outside, the palace was not idle.
Li Shuran sat with the Queen, fingers curled delicately around a porcelain teacup. Her eyes were lowered, demure, obedient—the perfect future Crown Princess.
"Your Majesty," she said softly, "I only wish to ease Your Highness's burden."
The Queen studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Good. Then you will begin by getting closer to him."
Li Shuran's lips curved. "I already have."
The Queen smiled. "And the boy?"
Li Shuran's eyes darkened. "A pest. One I will remove quietly."
Elsewhere, Han Jian returned to his shabby residence just before dawn.
Xu Ren was already waiting, arms crossed. "You were followed."
Han Jian raised a brow. "And?"
"I took care of it."
Han Jian nodded approvingly. "Good. Next time, let them watch."
Xu Ren frowned. "That's dangerous."
Han Jian's eyes gleamed. "Exactly."
He stepped inside the room, gaze drifting to the cracked mirror on the wall. For a brief moment, the reflection shifted—no longer a boy hated by his parents, but a woman standing in blood and fire, refusing to kneel even as blades pierced her flesh.
"I'm close," he murmured. "I can feel it."
In another part of the palace, Han Yue stared at the moon, heart pounding. Her feelings for the Crown Prince twisted inside her—hope, jealousy, and confusion tangled together.
She did not see the shadow watching her from afar.
The palace slept.
But secrets did not.
And neither did monsters.