The palace was quieter in the morning, but not silent.
Here, silence was a dangerous thing.
It was in the way the maids glided past with lowered eyes, the way the guards shifted their weight without speaking, the way the air itself seemed to listen.
I had woken before dawn, not because I wanted to, but because in this world, sleeping late was an indulgence only the favoured could afford. And I was not yet favoured.
I sat by the window, hair loose down my back, the silk robe on my shoulders thin enough to let in the cold morning breeze. In my hand, a cup of tea steamed bitter, fragrant, nothing like the instant tea I once drank on rainy afternoons in the twenty-first century.
My fingers curled around the porcelain.
Today, I will see him again.
The Crown Prince.
The man who had humiliated me before the court, his voice like a blade, his eyes like frost.
The man I had vowed , in that quiet place inside me to conquer, to kneel, to make love to me until the very thought of my absence would drive him mad.
But I would not rush.
In my old life, I had learned that the richest empires were not built in days; they were built in quiet, steady layers.
"Miss, the Head Maid says the Crown Prince will be waiting for you at the East Pavilion after the morning court."
It was Ling Yue, my assigned maid, her voice small but careful.
She did not look at me when she spoke, perhaps afraid to see how I might react.
"Did she also say why?" I asked, sipping my tea.
Ling Yue hesitated. "She… did not. But, Miss, there are rumours. They say the Prince has a reason for keeping you here, even after…" Her voice trailed off.
"After humiliating me?" I finished for her.
Her shoulders tensed. "Yes, Miss."
I set the cup down, stood, and let the robe slide from my shoulders to reveal the pale pink gown beneath ,not elaborate enough to draw envy, but fine enough to look respectable.
"Prepare something sweet for breakfast," I said.
Ling Yue looked confused. "Sweet?"
"Yes," I said, my lips curling. "Men like him always taste bitterness in their wine and salt in their victories. Sometimes, sweetness can unsettle them more than anger."
The East Pavilion was beautiful in a cold way. Its red pillars gleamed, the curved roof tiles glistened from last night's rain, and the pond beyond it mirrored the pale morning sky.
The Crown Prince stood with his back to me, hands clasped behind him, speaking to an older man in court robes.
I slowed my steps deliberately, letting the sound of my shoes on the wooden floorboards announce me.
He did not turn.
"Your Highness," I said, bowing just enough to be polite, but not so deeply that it felt submissive.
The older man glanced at me, then at him, and bowed himself away. That left only us.
The Crown Prince turned slowly. His gaze moved from my face to my gown, lingering, assessing, as though trying to decide if I was worth his time.
His eyes were the same cold, blue, sharp.
But there was something else too, a flicker of curiosity, quickly hidden.
"You are calmer than I expected," he said finally.
"Should I be trembling?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.
His mouth twitched not a smile, but something close.
"I thought you might be begging me to release you from the palace."
I took a step closer, the silk of my gown whispering against the floor. "And where? Back to the home of the woman who arranged my humiliation? Or to the family who sold me here in the first place? No, Your Highness. Here, at least, I have a view of the pond."
Something in his gaze sharpened. "You speak as if you have a choice."
"I always have a choice," I said softly. "Even if it is only in how I play the game."
For a moment, there was silence between us, the kind that pulls tight like a bowstring.
Then, unexpectedly, he turned and began walking along the edge of the pond. "Walk with me."
We circled the pavilion slowly. He asked me nothing about my past, and I offered nothing. Instead, I spoke of the plum trees in the west garden, how the blossoms would be early this year because of the warmer winter.
He listened without comment, but I could feel his eyes on me when I looked away.
When we reached the far side, he stopped near the stone bridge. "Do you know why you are here?"
"To serve the empire," I said without hesitation.
He gave a short, dry laugh. "Serve the empire? No. You are here because I have not yet decided what to do with you. You intrigue me, and I do not like being intrigued."
I met his eyes. "Then perhaps you should release me before it becomes worse."
The pause he gave me was all the answer I needed.
No, he would not release me.
That afternoon, I slipped away from the palace grounds under the pretext of visiting the outer gardens. In truth, I had memorised a path from the east gate that led to a small, unused stretch of land beyond the servant quarters.
It was overgrown, half-hidden by bamboo, and useless to anyone who did not see its potential.
To me, it was gold.
Here, I could plant vegetables unknown to this era, herbs that could be sold to the palace kitchens for a price they would gladly pay. I could grow grain, fruits, and—
I smiled to myself.
In the twenty-first century, I had been nothing more than a casual gardener on a balcony. Here, I would be the quiet hand that fed the palace.
Night fell quickly in the Tianxia Empire.
I was in my room, reviewing the day's small successes, when Ling Yue entered with a tray.
"There is a banquet tomorrow evening," she said. "The Crown Prince has ordered you to attend."
My fingers stilled. A banquet meant eyes, whispers, and politics.
It also meant opportunity.
"Good," I said. "Prepare the green silk gown. And Ling Yue brought me the small jar from the bottom of my chest."
She blinked. "The jar? With the… strange seeds?"
"Yes," I said. My smile was slow, deliberate. "Tomorrow night, I will plant the first seed in the earth, and in his mind."