Sleep did not come.
Selene lay awake on the rough straw mat, staring up at the cracked wooden beams as the faintest light of dawn bled through the shutters. The air was cold, heavy with the scent of damp wood and ash from the extinguished lanterns. Dust floated lazily above her, catching the pale light like drifting stars, and each quiet creak of the old beams felt like a whisper she wasn't supposed to hear.
She turned onto her side, the thin blanket twisted around her legs, heart still racing with memories that refused to fade.
The banquet replayed itself again and again in her mind—each fragment a jagged splinter cutting deeper the longer she thought about it.
The fall of plum blossoms, soft and ghostly in the torchlight. The Emperor's distant smile, more terrifying than any scowl. Lady Zhen's gaze, sharp as a blade sheathed in silk.
And then… her.
The Empress's eyes.
Silver. Still. Endless.
They hadn't just looked at her—they'd measured her. Weighed her. Passed judgment in complete silence. It felt as if the world had gone still in that gaze, and Selene had been seen for what she truly was: small, terrified, breakable.
She shivered under the blanket, pressing her fingers into the rough mat as if grounding herself to the earth. Her body ached in quiet protest—muscles tense from standing too long, shoulders tight from bowing, fingers stiff from carrying trays until her knuckles went white. Even now, she could still feel the phantom chill where the Empress's touch had grazed her chin the night before, cold as moonlight and twice as sharp.
And just when her exhaustion should have taken over, when her eyes should have closed from sheer fatigue—
The system flared in her vision, burning like frost.
(New Main Quest: Survive the Empress's Interest.)
(Difficulty: Impossible.)
Selene exhaled shakily. Impossible?
The word echoed in her skull like laughter from a cruel god. She wanted to laugh, or cry, or scream—anything but lie here waiting for whatever fate had decided she was worth.
I'm just trying not to die, she thought bitterly. I'm not here to play at politics, or tempt fate, or draw the attention of the most terrifying woman in the empire. I'm just… me. A maid. A nobody.
But in this palace, nobody was a luxury no one could afford.
Every glance could be a dagger. Every word, a trap. Death here came not with violence, but with silk and honey—poison hidden beneath politeness.
Her pulse quickened as her thoughts turned to Lin Hua's smile. Sweet, practiced, almost tender… until you looked too closely. Until you saw the edge. The venom.
And Lady Zhen—her mistress, her anchor, her greatest uncertainty. She could not tell whether Lady Zhen's lingering glances meant protection, or possession. Either way, they weighed heavy.
The silence of the servants' quarters was suffocating. Every sound seemed too loud—the rustle of fabric, the faint whisper of wind sliding through cracks in the door. Somewhere, a maid coughed, and Selene's entire body went rigid. Even the air seemed to hold its breath with her.
Outside, the faint perfume of lotus oil and sandalwood mingled with the lingering sweetness of plum blossoms drifting in from the inner gardens. Once, she'd found the scent beautiful. Now, it made her stomach twist. Beauty, here, was always a mask.
She clutched the blanket tighter around herself, willing the shaking in her hands to stop.
I have to think, she told herself. I have to act. Doing nothing is the fastest way to die.
But even that thought made her chest tighten. In this place, thinking was dangerous too. One wrong look, one slip of the tongue, and you could vanish before sunrise—erased by rumor, by poison, or by the quiet smile of someone who'd been watching you all along.
And yet, thinking was a dangerous luxury here.
The palace thrived on silence—a silence that listened back. It pressed against her skin as she rose, moving with mechanical precision: folding her mat, tying her sash, braiding her hair until her fingers stopped shaking. The air was brittle with cold, every exhale turning to mist. Outside, the faint sound of brooms against the stone courtyard marked the beginning of another day.
The world had started moving again. She had no choice but to move with it.
Selene stepped into the corridor, careful not to disturb the line of sleeping maids. The faint scent of rice gruel drifted from the kitchens. Dawn had painted the eastern walls in faint rose light, the color of healing wounds.
For a moment, it almost looked beautiful. Almost.
She passed beneath hanging scrolls of cranes and rivers, the calligraphy above them spelling out virtues she no longer believed in—loyalty, harmony, silence. The irony wasn't lost on her. Those who survived here were not loyal, harmonious, or silent. They were quick, observant, ruthless in quiet ways.
The System pulsed faintly in her periphery, a constant phantom.
(Quest Active: Survive the Empress's Interest.)
(Condition: Remain unnoticed until further instruction.)
She wanted to laugh. Remain unnoticed? After last night? That window had slammed shut the moment the Empress had looked at her.
Selene kept walking, the sound of her own footsteps too loud in the long marble hall. The walls themselves seemed to lean closer, painted eyes in gilded portraits following her as she moved.
She remembered what Lady Zhen had once said, her voice calm and sharp as a knife's edge:
"Fear is not your enemy here. Hesitation is."
At the time, Selene hadn't understood. Now she did.
Fear was a warning—an instinct honed by survival. It kept her spine straight and her breaths quiet, kept her gaze low and her thoughts quick. It was the tremor before the strike, not the weakness after.
The palace was a machine that ground the weak to dust. But it also tested the shape of those who refused to break.
Selene's reflection flickered briefly in a polished bronze panel as she passed. She stopped, just for a heartbeat, to look at the girl staring back.
Dark hair coiled neatly at her nape. Skin pale beneath the torchlight, lips drawn tight. The faint shadows under her eyes spoke of sleepless nights.
She didn't look brave.
She didn't look strong.
But there was something in her eyes now that hadn't been there before—focus.
The same girl who had once trembled at every sound now stood still, breathing evenly, her heartbeat slow and deliberate. The fear was still there, yes—but it had changed shape. Hardened.
She adjusted her sash and bowed her head again, moving on before anyone could see.
By the time she reached the servant's courtyard, the world was fully awake. The sky was streaked with pale gold; the chatter of morning chores filled the air. Water sloshed into buckets, footsteps echoed, laughter hid nerves.
Selene's hands worked automatically—scrubbing, folding, polishing—but her mind was no longer numb. Every sound, every movement, was catalogued. Every whisper became data.
If the Empress noticed me, I can't hide. So I'll prepare.
Her body moved like muscle memory while her mind drew invisible lines—between words overheard, glances exchanged, names that lingered on lips too long. She began to see patterns in the chaos: alliances, rivalries, invisible hierarchies that decided who breathed and who didn't.
It was terrifying.
It was intoxicating.
Because for the first time since she'd awakened in this world, she realized she wasn't completely helpless.
If the palace is a game, she thought, then I can learn the rules.
And when the Empress looked her way again, Selene would not tremble or falter. She would bow, smile, and hide her heartbeat behind her teeth.
The Empress's gaze would come.
And she would be ready.
By mid-morning, the summons arrived.
A single messenger, robed in white, appeared at the servant's quarters. He didn't speak—he simply held out a sealed scroll marked with the imperial crest. The crimson wax shimmered faintly, stamped with the image of a crescent moon.
Selene's fingers went numb the instant she saw it.
Her heart stumbled once, then again, like it had forgotten how to beat properly. Around her, the other maids froze mid-motion. Even the air seemed to still. No one dared to breathe as the messenger's gaze swept across the room and landed squarely on her.
"Selene of the eastern wing," he said. "The Empress commands your presence."
The words fell like stones into a still pond. Ripples of disbelief spread through the room.
Selene bowed low to hide her face, but inside, panic twisted her stomach into knots. Her palms were slick with sweat. Her mouth had gone dry.
When she rose, her world felt distant—muted, like she was underwater.
The other maids avoided her eyes. Some out of pity. Some out of envy. But one look from Lady Zhen—cool, unreadable—told her everything she needed to know.
There would be no refusal. No escape.
She followed the messenger through the winding halls of the inner court. Each step echoed like a heartbeat, the marble gleaming beneath her trembling feet.
The palace had never felt so vast.
Light filtered through silk curtains in shades of gold and crimson. The scent of jasmine and sandalwood clung to the air, sweet and suffocating. Selene tried to focus on her breathing, on the pattern of her steps—one, two, three, bow. One, two, three, breathe.
You can't fall apart now.
The grand doors of the imperial hall loomed ahead, carved with dragons and phoenixes entwined. Two guards in silver armor pulled them open without a word. The sound was a slow, deep rumble that vibrated through her bones.
And then she saw her.
Empress Celestia sat upon the throne like a vision carved from light and shadow. Gold threads shimmered through her black hair; her robes pooled like liquid sunlight. Her eyes—ancient, unreadable—fixed on Selene with quiet, crushing authority.
Selene dropped to her knees instantly, forehead to the cold marble. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
"Rise."
The command was soft, but it carried the weight of the world.
Selene obeyed, though her body trembled.
For a moment, silence filled the hall. Only the faint rustle of silk could be heard as the Empress regarded her.
"You are the girl who caught my attention," Celestia said at last. Her voice was low, melodic, yet threaded with steel. "The one who served under Lady Zhen."
Selene's throat closed. She nodded once, keeping her gaze low.
"I have heard… unusual things," the Empress continued, tilting her head slightly. "You survived a night that should have killed you. You cleaned a chamber laced with poison and lived to tell the tale. Tell me, child—what exactly are you?"
Selene swallowed hard. The truth burned at the back of her tongue, but she forced her voice to steady.
"I am… loyal to those who command me, Your Majesty."
A faint smile ghosted across the Empress's lips—half amusement, half warning.
"Loyalty," she murmured. "A convenient word. So many speak it. So few understand it."
Her gaze sharpened. "If I were to tell you to betray Lady Zhen, would you?"
Selene froze. Every instinct screamed at her to choose carefully. One wrong syllable could unravel everything.
"I would obey, Your Majesty," she whispered at last. "Even if my heart trembled."
The Empress's laughter was quiet, dangerous—like glass breaking underwater.
"Good," she said. "Fear can be molded. Loyalty can be tested. But obedience… that is power."
Selene dared not move. Her knees ached against the marble, yet her spine remained straight.
Celestia leaned forward slightly, and for the first time, Selene saw the faintest crack in her perfect composure—something curious, almost human, flickering in her eyes.
"There is something strange about you," the Empress murmured. "You do not belong to this place… and yet, you endure it."
Selene's breath hitched. Her chest tightened. Did she know?
The Empress stood then, her robes cascading like water. Every servant in the hall bowed lower as she descended the steps. Her perfume was dizzying—white lotus and rain.
When she stopped before Selene, her presence was overwhelming.
"This palace devours the weak," Celestia said softly. "If you wish to live, learn to bite back."
Her fingers brushed Selene's chin, tilting her face upward. Their eyes met.
And in that instant, Selene understood: this was not a warning. It was a challenge.
The Empress turned away. "You may rise. From this day onward, you serve under my watch. Do not disappoint me."
(System Notification: Main Quest Updated — Serve the Empress.)
(Reward: Extended survival probability.)
Selene's legs felt like water, but she managed to bow low, her forehead nearly touching the floor again.
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty."
When she finally stepped back into the corridor, the doors closing behind her, her lungs expanded in a shuddering breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She pressed them to her chest, willing her heart to slow.
The Empress had seen her. Spoken to her. Marked her.
And though every part of her wanted to collapse from the weight of it, a strange spark flickered to life beneath the fear—small, fragile, but real.
It was not safety.
It was not victory.
But it was something.
Selene lifted her head toward the cold morning light spilling through the lattice windows.
"This is only the beginning."