There's always a shift when you re-enter enemy territory. Even if you own the land.
The Crown Prince's manor wasn't a battlefield in the traditional sense, but it might as well have been. The weapons here were different…coated in honey, dipped in silk, and whispered behind fans. And unlike the southern war, these enemies thought they were clever.
They thought I didn't know the walls had ears.
I did. I'd counted them.
By noon, half the residence knew I'd returned. Not because I made a grand entrance—but because I had not made one. I hadn't reported directly to the Crown Prince. I hadn't visited the Empress. I hadn't so much as bowed to a portrait.
In this place, silence was the loudest insult.
The first knock came just after lunch.
Shi Yaozu opened the door. Of course.
