The Crimson Court held its breath that night. No banquets. No music. Just the hush that comes when power rearranges itself.

Kang Ya Zhen was summoned to Lord Wen’s private council. Ji Ming and I were ordered to remain outside the chamber as “decorative guards”, Wen had called us.

Decorative guards don’t listen, but I did.

The door was carved from phoenixwood, polished thin enough that sound slipped through if you pressed close. The scent of sandalwood masked everything except the faint, burning sweetness of the Vermilion House incense, a rare blend used only for oaths.

“…the Imperial envoy arrives in five days,” Lord Wen was saying. “If the cores are ready, the throne will reward us handsomely.”

“They’re not stable,” Ya Zhen’s voice answered, calm but tense. “If even one fractures before activation—”

“That is not your concern, when the throne commands, the court obeys.”

A soft sound followed, the slide of silk against stone, a shift in posture that sounded very much like someone kneeling.

“And if the bonded pair proves compatible…” Wen continued, “their resonance might be the key to stabilizing the weapon. Imagine using divine energy without the divine cost.”

My stomach turned. He was talking about us.

Ya Zhen’s reply became colder. “You can’t harness something like that, Shuangxin is not a tool.”

“Everything is a tool,” Wen grabbed her chin and said in a harsh whisper. “Even you.”

There was a pause, long and dangerous. Then her voice again, barely audible: “Then perhaps you should pray your tool doesn’t break.”

Suddenly there were footsteps.

I pulled back, quickly, just before the door opened. The corridor seemed to sway with the scent of burning incense. Ji Ming was waiting farther down the hall, his expression unreadable.

“You heard,” he said.

I nodded once. “They’re going to use us… the bond, the cores. All of it.”

His jaw tightened. “Then we will make sure it’s on our terms.”

“How?”

“By surviving long enough to choose.”

When Ya Zhen returned, her face was composed but her hands trembled slightly when she poured tea. The gesture was too graceful to be clumsy… she wanted me to notice.

“The envoy will arrive soon,” she said softly. “When he does, you must act as if you know nothing.”

“About the cores?”

“About everything.”

Her gaze lingered on me, unreadable. “You’ve seen too much already, White Lotus. Don’t let the Court see it in your eyes.”

That night, I watched the smoke rise from the canals, red and perfumed, glowing faintly under the moonlight. Ji Ming stood beside me, his reflection wavering in the water.

“They want to turn the bond into a weapon,” I said.

He looked at me then, eyes dark and steady. “Then we have to make sure it fires the right way.”

The wind carried the scent of Vermilion incense. Somewhere far above, the moon slipped behind a veil of cloud, as if hiding its face from what it already knew was coming.