Mia followed the others down a narrow stone hall lit by hanging lamps. The air shimmered with heat and spice. Pots steamed in rows and knives flashed like silver sparks. The kitchen buzzed with energy a rhythm that felt almost alive. The cooks moved fast speaking in a mix of strange words but their meaning came to her like soft echoes as if her mind was learning without permission.

A girl next to her whispered something that sounded like a warning about the head chef. Mia nodded pretending to understand. Her hands trembled she hid them behind her apron. Everything looked too real to be a dream. The walls were carved with phoenixes the floors polished so clean they reflected firelight.

At the far end stood a tall man in red and gold his eyes sharp as glass. He turned slowly and scanned the line of new servants. When his gaze reached Mia he paused for a moment then lifted an eyebrow. “You the one with the golden mark”

She froze. The ribbon on her wrist glowed faintly. The others stepped back as if afraid to be near her.

“Yes sir” she managed to say though her voice cracked.

“You’ll work under me. Don’t ruin anything or you’ll wish you were never born.” He snapped his fingers and the others scattered back to their stations. Mia swallowed hard and nodded.

He led her to a wooden table covered in bowls of herbs. The smell brought back her old kitchen memories basil rosemary lemon peel and something that reminded her of chili oil. Her hands moved before her thoughts caught up she started sorting and chopping her motions smooth from years of habit. The chef stopped watching her carefully.

“You’ve done this before” he said quietly.

Mia hesitated. “I used to cook where I come from”

“Where is that?”

She opened her mouth but no words came. How could she say Los Angeles when there was no such place here?

“Far away” she said at last.

He nodded as if that was enough. “Good. Then you’ll fit here better than most.”

Hours passed. The rhythm of knives the crackle of oil the deep hum of boiling broth. She lost herself in it the same way she used to when she still believed food could change her life. The other cooks began to glance her way whispering. Her speed and precision didn’t belong to a servant girl.

When the dinner bell rang she was soaked in sweat her arms sore but her heart steady. For the first time since waking up she felt a small thread of peace.

The head chef called her over again. “Tomorrow the Emperor tests his chefs. You’ll help prepare ingredients nothing more. Do not speak unless spoken to.”

She bowed slightly unsure if that was right but it felt natural. He looked at her for a moment longer then dismissed her.

Night fell by the time she returned to the servants’ quarters. The dorm smelled of straw and soap. Girls whispered under dim lamps gossiping about the palace the rules the punishments. One told a story about a maid who dropped a dish and vanished the next day. Another whispered about how no one ever sees the Emperor’s face except his inner circle.

Mia sat quietly at the edge of her cot staring at her hands. The golden ribbon still glowed faintly against her skin. She thought of her apartment the tiny stove the chipped mug that said Dream Big. She wondered if anyone had found her body.

Tears stung her eyes but she blinked them away. Crying wouldn’t help. She took a deep breath and whispered to herself “One step at a time” the same thing she always said before trying a new recipe.

When the lamps went out the sky beyond the window glowed with two moons. Somewhere far away a horn sounded and the palace went silent. She drifted into sleep the scent of herbs still clinging to her fingers.

In her dream she stood again at the crosswalk where it all began. The red light blinked endlessly and the street stretched on forever. On the other side she saw the palace gates glowing faintly gold.

She took one step forward and the world shifted again the smell of onions and smoke rising like memory.

When morning came she woke to the sound of drums and the shout of the overseer calling all kitchen staff to line up. Today the Emperor would come. Today the royal challenge would begin.

And Mia had no idea that her fate was already simmering quietly in the pot of destiny.