The moment she stepped into the main hall, Wan Li's knees felt weak.
Yesterday, she had stumbled in half-conscious, covered in soot, her mind too shattered to understand where she was. Today, the world was clearer—and therefore more frightening.
Su Yan guided her forward until they reached the mat laid out on the polished floor. Wan Li sank to her knees at once, because kneeling was familiar, and familiarity was the only thing keeping her from trembling.
The hall was large and cold in the morning light. Shadows spilled across the floor from tall windows. A faint smell of sandalwood lingered in the carved beams overhead, but it didn't comfort her.
Palace scents comforted her.
This did not.
"Miss," Su Yan whispered behind her. "Remember—don't look up unless told. Speak softly. Say 'Madam.'"
Wan Li nodded. Her hair shifted with the motion, braid brushing her shoulder.
Her stomach twisted.
Mother had said this place would protect her.
Mother had said she was promised here.
Mother had said she must endure.
So she would. Even if her hands were cold. Even if her heart felt small.
A soft voice outside announced:
"Madam Li has arrived."
Wan Li's breath caught.
Footsteps entered—steady, controlled, far too confident for a world that had burned only hours ago.
The footsteps stopped.
"You may greet me," Madam Li said.
Wan Li bowed at once, forehead almost touching the mat.
"W-Wan Li… greets Madam Li," she whispered. Her voice cracked on her own name, as if saying it felt wrong now.
Su Yan followed with a deep bow, but Wan Li heard little beyond the heavy pounding of her own heart.
"Rise," Madam Li said.
Wan Li obeyed, straightening only enough to sit properly, head still lowered. She didn't dare look higher than Madam Li's hands resting on the armrest.
The silence stretched. Wan Li counted her breaths the way her mother once taught her to calm down—one, two, three—but today the numbers tangled.
"I spoke to you last night," Madam Li said, "but you were exhausted and half-choked with smoke. Today, we will speak properly."
Wan Li's fingers curled slightly in her skirt.
Her mind felt like a blank sheet with only one word written on it: obey.
"You understand that you are no longer in the palace?"
Wan Li's lips trembled before she could speak.
"…Yes, Madam."
But the truth was: she didn't understand.
She only knew she had left because Mother pushed her out.
She only knew she'd been told to run.
She only knew she had to obey.
Madam Li continued, her tone even, almost clinical:
"Good. Then listen carefully."
The words made Wan Li's shoulders tense. She tried to sit straighter.
"In this house, you cannot be a princess," Madam Li said. "That title has no protection here. Outside those gates, the dynasty is finished. Calling you 'Princess' would endanger us all."
Wan Li swallowed, throat tight.
Finished.
Dangerous.
She knew this already. Her mother had said something similar, with shaking hands and a voice that tried to remain firm.
Even so, hearing it again hurt in a way she didn't know how to name.
"You will be presented as a distant relation from a ruined noble branch," Madam Li continued. "Your parents died in the unrest. You have nowhere else to go. That is the story."
Wan Li dampened her lips, which had gone dry.
"Yes, Madam," she whispered.
Madam Li's gaze lingered on her.
"Repeat it," she said.
Wan Li's mind fumbled.
"I…" she started, then paused, panicked that she would say it wrong. She glanced sideways for half a heartbeat.
Su Yan gave her a faint, encouraging tilt of the head.
Wan Li drew a shaky breath.
"I… am a distant relation," she said slowly, tasting each unfamiliar word. "My parents… died… in the unrest. I came to… seek shelter."
Her voice wavered on the last word.
She wasn't sure she said it in the right order. The words felt too big for her mouth.
Madam Li studied her.
"You must never say anything else," she said. "If you do, someone could die."
Wan Li's breath stuttered.
Die.
The word made her see fire and collapsing ceilings and her mother shouting "GO!" with tears in her eyes.
Her hands tightened until the knuckles paled.
"I… I won't say anything else, Madam," she whispered.
"Good."
Madam Li's attention shifted briefly to Su Yan.
The older woman spoke cleanly, decisively:
"You will remain in the side courtyard. It is far from the main gates and far from the social wings. That is intentional."
Wan Li lowered her head further, as if shrinking might make her less troublesome.
"Yes, Madam."
"You will not wander. You will not be seen where you are not expected. You will not approach the main hall, the family wings, or the reception areas without permission."
"Y-Yes, Madam."
"If asked about your past, you will keep your answers vague. If someone speaks poorly of the dynasty, you will remain silent. You must never correct them."
Wan Li hesitated.
Her lips parted.
Then closed.
Then parted again, as if the words were stuck.
She thought of Li Shan—her older cousin, the child emperor who she scarcely knew but always feared. She thought of how guards shouted his name as the palace crumbled. She thought of how her mother had said nothing could be done.
And she thought of how people outside might speak about him.
The idea of hearing others say his name with disdain made her stomach knot
But she only whispered:
"…Yes, Madam."
Madam Li paused.
"You sound uncertain."
Wan Li flinched.
"I… I will try to remember," she said quickly, head bowing even lower. "Mother said… I must survive. And obey. So I… I will do as you say."
Su Yan's eyes filled with quiet ache at those words.
Madam Li's expression did not change.
"Then we continue."
She folded her hands.
--
TBC