Chapter 20: Tea, Threads, and Tensions

The garden pavilion was quiet, save for the hush of silk skirts and the whispering leaves above. It was Meiqi who arrived first, escorted by her maid, a small tray of red dates and candied lotus seeds following behind her. She took her seat with a touch more grace than she usually bothered to muster—there was no one to impress here, yet instinct held its grip.

She was curious.

The garden had been suggested by Lady En, but the invitation bore no official seal. That meant it was private, but not secret. An arrangement, perhaps. A test.

Sera came second, draped in ivory linen and blue embroidery, her braid twisted with gold threads. She smiled when she saw Meiqi—genuine, warm—but Meiqi noticed how the girl's eyes flicked to the servants, the shadows, the edges of things. Sera was careful. More than she let on.

"You've changed your hair," Meiqi said lightly as Sera sat.

Sera smiled again. "They said I looked too foreign. I thought gold might help."

The two chuckled softly, but there was a pause before either spoke again.

Then Anhai entered—quietly, without fanfare, her presence like a sigh in the wind. She wore soft grey robes and walked as if her steps weighed nothing. Her eyes met theirs briefly, unreadable as always.

"Lady Meiqi. Lady Sera."

"Lady Anhai," Sera said with a gentle bow of her head.

Meiqi simply offered a slight smile. "Come, sit. Let's not pretend we don't know why we're here."

"Why are we here?" Sera asked, half in jest.

"To be seen, mostly," Meiqi replied, pouring tea with deliberate calm. "And to see each other. Properly, this time."

Anhai took the cup handed to her and set it down without sipping. "Is that what this is? A weighing of alliances?"

Sera frowned. "I hope not. That would be rather cold."

"It's the palace," Meiqi murmured. "Everything is colder here."

Anhai turned her head slightly, studying Meiqi for a breath. "And yet you seem quite warm at its center."

Meiqi met her gaze. "Not by choice. But I do enjoy the warmth."

Sera watched them both—one sparkling, one still. She sipped her tea and tried to measure them, not in titles or proximity to power, but in quiet things. In the way Meiqi's laughter was always a little too loud, a little too pointed. In how Anhai never leaned back in her chair, never fully relaxed.

And in herself—how she always felt like an echo in rooms built for others.

"It's strange," Sera said softly, setting her cup down. "We are all daughters of different worlds. And yet here we are. Gathered like beads on the same thread."

"Threads break," Meiqi said.

"Only if pulled too tightly," Anhai responded.

A small silence followed.

Then, Meiqi laughed again—less guarded this time. "Well. That was dramatic. Perhaps we're all just here for tea."

Sera smiled, relieved by the shift. "I like that better. Tea and small talk."

"And the occasional dagger beneath it," Meiqi added with a grin.

"Oh, always," Sera said sweetly.

Anhai tilted her head. "Even if we are not friends yet... perhaps we can afford not to be enemies."

The words lingered. A subtle truce—unspoken, unofficial. But real.

For now.