Chapter 17: Silk Threads and Quiet Wars

The engagement was no longer rumor.

A scroll had been delivered that morning, heavy with seals and names she'd never met, and now Sera sat at the edge of her new chamber, fingers gently tracing the parchment's gold-stamped edge. The prince's name—Prince Zhaoren—had been penned boldly beside hers, as though the court itself willed this pairing into permanence.

She had met him before, in that garden of stiff glances and subtle accusations. There was sharpness to him, like a blade she'd not yet learned to wield—but he was also a prince, and more importantly, a tool the court intended to use. Whether for unity or containment, she could not yet say.

The knock at the screen door startled her.

It was Lady Anhai—soft-eyed, composed, still new to these walls herself but already possessing the grace of someone who had mastered silence.

"You've seen it?" Anhai asked, stepping in without waiting for an answer.

Sera held up the scroll. "It's real."

"Did you expect it not to be?"

"I expected more time," Sera admitted. "I expected to choose when to smile about it."

Anhai sat beside her. "We don't choose when. Only how."

They sat in silence for a moment. Outside, bells rang across the southern hall—signaling afternoon prayers, or perhaps another arrival. The palace was always shifting, always breathing.

"I keep thinking about the Dowager Queen," Sera said quietly. "She told me to take care of myself—but it wasn't advice. It was a warning."

"She knows what a woman's value means here."

"I've never belonged to anyone before," Sera whispered.

"You still don't," Anhai said. "Not really. You're being used. Like all of us. The difference is what you do with it."

Sera looked down at the scroll again.

Prince Zhaoren was not kind. But he was intelligent. Strategic. She'd seen it in the way he measured his words, even when insulting her heritage. There was no softness between them—but perhaps that was for the better. Softness broke too easily here.

"I wonder if he'll hate me less once I'm his wife," she murmured.

Anhai gave a faint smile. "He might respect you more."

That would be enough—for now.

Sera rose, straightened her sleeves, and set the scroll aside. "Then I suppose we should prepare for a wedding."

Anhai touched her arm gently. "And for the war that comes after."