Lin moved beside her fast and sure handing her what she needed before she had to ask. Knife. Peel. Clean cloth. Spoon. Rice already loosened. Fresh green tops cut thin and ready. Her hands were shaking a little and she did not hide it. Mia saw that and felt something harden inside her in a way she did not expect

No one touches Lin she thought. Not while I am breathing

She was not a fighter. She was not a guard. She had no weapon no armor and no plan. But the thought sat in her chest like a steady heat anyway

Protect her

Protect Chef

Protect the kitchen

The broth began to turn pale gold. The smell lifted warm and bright. Mia tasted with the tip of a spoon. She closed her eyes and reached for the memory she had of his face last night. The way his shoulders had dropped for a moment. The way his voice had softened. The way he said You helped me breathe like a man and not a ruler

She cooked for that version of him

Not for the throne

Not for the council

Not for Consort Lian

For the tired man who still had to stand in front of all of them and not break

The broth was ready. She strained it. Added rice. Let it soften just enough not too much. Poached the egg careful careful careful. Laid it on top like a small moon resting on quiet water. Scattered green on the surface like early morning

Her hands did not shake

Lin let out a slow breath “It is beautiful”

Zhu nodded once. “Bowl it. Go”

Mia lifted the bowl. It burned her palms but she did not flinch. The man in the plain robe opened the inner door for her without speaking. Lin squeezed Mia’s arm once quick. Her eyes said Stay alive. Zhu’s eyes said Do not fail

Mia stepped through the door and into the night hall

It was quieter than she expected

The hall was lit by low lanterns that gave off a soft orange glow. The floor was polished stone that reflected just enough light to guide her steps. The air smelled faintly of cedar and warm tea. The silence was not empty. It felt like a place where words were not allowed to echo

Two guards stood at the end of the hall. They watched her approach but did not cross their spears. One gave the smallest nod. She walked past them

This is real she thought

This is happening

Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat and in her wrists but her hands were still steady on the bowl. Zhu was right. No panic in your hands. Panic in your hands changes the taste

At the end of the short hall was a door. Not huge. Not carved with dragons like in stories. Simple dark wood. Strong. Guarded by silence instead of threat

She raised her knee a little and knocked with the side of her foot because both her hands were full

For a breath nothing happened

Then a voice from the other side low and even

“Enter”

She slid the door open with her shoulder and stepped inside

The air in the private room was warm and dim. A single lantern burned on a low table beside a stack of scrolls. A tray with untouched tea sat on the floor near a cushion. The window coverings were mostly closed but a thin line of night sky showed through like ink

He was there