The Wrong Kind of Attention

The scent of white lotuses drifted through the air as Kai En strode into the Radiant Moon Pavilion, his back straight, his chin lifted.

The Empress sat beneath the shade of a carved pavilion, her robes embroidered with golden phoenixes that shimmered as she shifted.

She did not rise to greet him. Instead, her gaze swept over him.

"You've grown thinner," she remarked, her voice devoid of warmth.

Kai En inclined his head, accepting the backhanded concern for what it was. "War demands much, Mother."

She studied him a moment longer, then set her teacup down with a quiet clink and gestured for him to sit. He obeyed, though his back remained straight, hands resting lightly against his knees.

"While you have been away securing our borders, Minister Shen has been securing his place in the court."

At the mention of that man, Kai En's expression darkened.

"He has tightened his grip over the council," she continued smoothly. "And he is testing the limits of his influence."

"What has he done this time?" Kai En asked, shifting slightly.

"He demanded a military promotion for his son." She scoffed, fingers tapping lightly against the lacquered table. "A pathetic creature who has never seen a battlefield, whose hands have only known ink and silks, yet he wishes to wear a general's cloak."

Kai En's jaw clenched. Minister Shen had been a threat long before Kai En left for war, but now it seemed the man was growing bolder.

"And what did you say?" he asked carefully.

"While I hate to admit it, I did not outrightly have his tongue cut out for daring to order me." She sighed, looking at Kai En. "But we cannot let him have the upper hand either."

"What would you have me do?" he asked.

For the first time, something like approval flickered in her expression.

"You will play the game," she said. "We cannot remove him outright, not yet. But we can remind him that while he is gaining influence, he is not untouchable. You must return to court and ensure he does not overstep. If we allow him to grow bolder, he will take what belongs to us."

"If you do not, you will lose. And if you lose, you will lose everything."

He hated politics. Hated the whispering halls of the palace, the hidden daggers behind every bow, and the endless battle fought with smiles instead of swords.

But she was right.

He could not afford to lose.

He inclined his head. "I understand."

The Empress eyed him, then nodded once, satisfied.

"Good."

Kai En waited. If his mother had finished talking, she would have dismissed him. What could be making the Empress stall?

"Mother?"

The Empress studied him for a long moment before exhaling softly, her fingers tracing the delicate rim of her teacup.

"I had new tinctures and potions sent to your chambers," she said at last. "You know what happens when you neglect them."

Kai En's fingers curled against his knees. He kept his face impassive. "I do not neglect them," he said evenly.

"See to it that you use them," she added, watching him carefully.

There was no need to respond. She knew he would not thank her, just as he knew she would expect nothing less than obedience.

Still, the thought of those potions, the cloying taste of them, sat bitterly in his mind.

"You are your father's favorite," she continued, shifting the conversation. "And that has earned you the resentment of your siblings. Do not be blind to their ambitions. While you were away, they have been waiting—plotting."

Kai En exhaled through his nose. As if I didn't know that already.

"You are strong, but do not be reckless." Her gaze flickered, a rare, fleeting softness in it. But then she straightened and gestured toward the pavilion's exit. "That will be all."

Dismissed.

Kai En stood, bowed stiffly, and turned on his heel. His mind was already moving through the conversation.

His health. His siblings. His position. War might have ended outside these palace walls, but inside them, it had only just begun.

*****

His thoughts were still circling when he stepped into the open corridor, the soft fragrance of white lotuses clinging to the air.

Something felt… different.

Kai En slowed slightly, frowning. The air was the same, thick with the scent of the palace gardens, yet it felt denser somehow.

Pressing against his skin. His breath hitched, just slightly, before he forced it even.

He rolled his shoulders, dismissing the odd sensation. He had barely made it through half the pavilion when someone slammed into him.

The impact was soft yet jolting, and Kai En's muscles tensed. Instinct drew his hand toward his sword, but—he hesitated.

A sharp, warm prickle surged at the base of his skull, running down his spine like a phantom touch. His heartbeat stuttered. The fine hairs on his arms rose.

His gaze dropped.

The servant who had collided with him fell hard to the ground. But even before he could fully process the man's disheveled form, something wrong coiled in his chest—like a chord struck too deep.

The scent of the air shifted—faint, almost imperceptible beneath the lotuses, but there. Something his instincts latched onto.

His breath left him a second too slow.

What the hell…?

The servant was already looking up at him. Not cowering. Not trembling. But staring him directly in the eyes.

Bold.

Something in Kai En's gut twisted, his pulse thick in his throat. He couldn't place the feeling, but it was sharp, disorienting.

Footsteps pounded against the marble floor.

"Hey wait! You can't just—Your Highness—!"

A palace servant came skidding to a stop before them. His eyes darted between Kai En and the one still on the ground, and his face paled.

With a sharp gasp, the man threw himself at Kai En's feet, pressing his forehead to the marble. In the same motion, he grabbed the fallen servant's arm and yanked him down into a bow.

"Forgive him, Your Highness! He is new—he does not yet know his place! Please, have mercy!"

Kai En exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing at the servant who had bumped into him.

New?

Is that what gives him the audacity to stare him down?

His attention flickered over him—plain servant robes that barely hid the muscles, slightly disheveled from the fall, dark strands of hair falling loose against his forehead. 

Something about him was off.

The prickling at Kai En's nape flared again, warm, unsettling. And—was it his imagination?—but the servant seemed to stiffen at the same time.

Kai En exhaled sharply through his nose, irritation curling in his chest. He had no patience for whining.

"Enough," he said coolly. "I am not in the mood to punish anyone over a mere misstep. Get up."

The kneeling man visibly sagged in relief. He dragged the other servant up with him and bowed several more times before hastily retreating.

Kai En exhaled, rolling his shoulders to ease the lingering tension. He was too tired for this nonsense.

Too drained to care about servants who didn't know their place.

And yet…

As he turned to leave the last corner, a prickling sensation crawled up the back of his neck again, sharp enough that his steps faltered.

His gaze flicked over his shoulder.

The servant—the one who had bumped into him—was looking at him.

Still not lowered in deference, not flickering away in fear. Just looking. Direct.

Steady. Calculating.

Kai En's fingers curled against his palm.

Who the hell was he?

The older servant, still scolding, pulled at his arm, forcing him to look away.

Kai En shook his head as he turned and walked away, fingers curled against his palm.

It was nothing. A servant with poor instincts and worse manners.

He dismissed the thought and continued on his way.

A trick of exhaustion, he told himself. Six years away, and he was too accustomed to watching his back.

The palace should have been safe. There was likely nothing to be wary of here.

The moment stretched a second longer before he turned away.

By the time he reached his quarters, the tingling at the back of his neck had faded.

But not completely.