The soft flicker of lanterns cast elongated shadows on the lacquered floors of the Empress Dowagerâs palace. The night air carried the scent of blooming osmanthus, mingling with the lingering aroma of an extravagant meal. The Emperor sat at the head of the table, dressed in deep indigo robes embroidered with golden dragons, his posture relaxed but commanding.
Lin Zhao kept his head lowered as he refilled the Emperorâs cup with chrysanthemum tea. He had done this task countless times, yet tonight, the atmosphere felt heavier. The Emperor had been dining here frequently, and with each visit, Lin Zhao felt the weight of his presence grow stronger.
Across the table, the Empress Dowager set down her porcelain spoon, her gaze steady on her son.
"You have been spending more time here, rather than in your own palace, my son," she remarked, her voice smooth, but laced with meaning.
The Emperor lifted his cup to his lips, taking a slow sip before responding. "Am I not allowed to dine with my mother?" His tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of something elseâsomething Lin Zhao could not quite place.
The Empress Dowager gave a knowing smile. "A mother is always pleased when her son visits. But an Emperorâs time is never truly his own."
She glanced toward the servants before flicking her fingers. The maids nearest to her stepped back, giving them a semblance of privacy. Lin Zhao, standing by Madame Liuâs side, remained still. He had learned long ago that to listen without appearing to listen was an art in itself.
The Empress Dowager picked up her spoon again, stirring her soup slowly. "The court is restless," she said. "I hear murmurs of discontent among the ministers."
The Emperor leaned back slightly. "They are always restless. If not about one thing, then about another."
"The rice taxes," she continued, watching him closely. "Some say the levies on the southern provinces are too harsh. There are concerns of rebellion among the smaller landowners."
The Emperor exhaled through his nose. "The southern lords complain because they no longer have free rein over their wealth. For years, they have hoarded grain and sold it at exorbitant prices. Now that the imperial imposes regulations, they claim oppression."
The Empress Dowager nodded slightly. "Still, if unrest grows, it could become a weakness in your rule. It would be wise to send an envoy to pacify them."
The Emperor did not respond immediately, only swirling the tea in his cup. Lin Zhao took this as his cue to step forward, refilling the cup without a sound.
His hand remained steady even as he felt the Emperorâs gaze flicker to him, lingering just a second too long before shifting back to the Empress Dowager.
"And who would you suggest?" the Emperor finally asked.
The Empress Dowagerâs lips curved. "Prince Rui has long sought to prove his loyalty. He is connected to both the court and the military. Sending him would be seen as a gesture of goodwill."
The Emperor gave a short chuckle. "Or an invitation for him to build his own influence."
"Which is why you will ensure he does not travel alone," the Empress Dowager countered smoothly. "Give him authority, but limit his power. Let him settle disputes, but remind him that all decisions must pass through you first."
Lin Zhao did not fully understand the intricacies of politics, but he knew enough to recognize that this was not just a discussion of taxes. Power was at play, shifting subtly between mother and son.
The Emperor tapped his fingers against the rim of his cup. "I will consider it."
The conversation lulled as the next course was servedâdelicate slices of steamed fish, glazed with ginger and scallions. Lin Zhao moved gracefully, placing the dishes with precision, his presence unnoticed but necessary.
It was then that the Empress Dowager changed the subject.
"And what of your harem?" she asked, picking up her chopsticks. "I have not heard news of any concubines gaining favor."
The Emperorâs expression did not change, but Lin Zhao noticed the way his grip on his cup tightened ever so slightly.
"They are as they have always been," he said simply.
The Empress Dowager raised a brow. "That is precisely the issue. A harem exists to ensure stabilityâto produce heirs, to forge alliances. It has been months, yet you have not taken a single consort into your favor."
The Emperor set his cup down with a quiet clink. "Must I be reminded of my duties at every meal?"
The Empress Dowager did not waver. "It is because you are the Emperor that your duties cannot be ignored. A dynasty does not survive on politics alone. The court watches. They whisper. If you do not choose a favored consort, they will assume there is a reason for it."
For a brief moment, silence settled over the hall.
Lin Zhao kept his gaze on the table, his fingers lightly curled around the edge of a serving tray. He knew better than to react, but he could feel the tension in the room like a drawn bowstring.
Then, the Emperor exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. "I will make my decisions in due time," he said, his voice softer but firm. "Let the court whisper. I am not so easily swayed."
The Empress Dowager studied him for a long moment before nodding. "As you wish."
The rest of the meal passed without further tension.
When the last dish was cleared, Lin Zhao stepped forward once more, bowing as he reached for the Emperorâs empty bowl.
Before he could retreat, the Emperor turned to him.
"Lin Zhao."
Lin Zhaoâs breath hitched. It was the first time the Emperor had spoken his name directly.
He bowed deeper. "Your Majesty."
The Emperor reached into his sleeve and withdrew something smallâa silver token, engraved with the imperial seal. He held it between his fingers for a moment before placing it lightly in Lin Zhaoâs palm.
"Take this."
Lin Zhaoâs fingers curled around the cool metal instinctively. He did not dare look up.
Madame Liu, ever the astute observer, stepped in smoothly. "His Majesty is generous. Lin Zhao is deeply grateful."
The Emperor said nothing, only giving a small nod before rising from his seat. The meal had ended, and with it, the conversation of state and harem affairs was left behind in the flickering candlelight.
As Lin Zhao stepped back into the kitchens, he could feel the weight of the token against his palm.
And across the room, he could feel Jenâerâs gazeâsharp, burning with quiet resentment.
The Emperor would return tomorrow.
And the next day.
And each time, Lin Zhao would serve.
And each time, he would be rewarded.
And somewhere in the shadows of the palace, jealousy was beginning to take root.
Lin Zhao stepped back into the bustling kitchen, his heart still unsteady from the Emperorâs unexpected gesture. The silver token weighed lightly in his palm, yet it felt heavier than any object he had ever held. He kept his fingers curled around it, unsure whether to tuck it into his sash or hide it away in his quarters.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the clatter of porcelain and the sizzle of oil filled the air. The scent of simmering broth mingled with the remnants of roasted duck, yet beneath it all, there was a tension that had not been there before.
Jenâer was standing near the preparation table, her back rigid as she arranged a tray of teacups. Her hands moved with practiced precision, but Lin Zhao could see the way her fingers clenched the delicate porcelain just a little too tightly.
Zing Chi, the more even-tempered of the two, was kneeling near the stove, stirring a pot of herbal soup. She lifted her head slightly at his arrival, her sharp eyes darting to his closed fist before flickering back to his face.
"You were gone for longer than usual," Zing Chi remarked casually, though there was a hint of curiosity beneath her words.
Lin Zhao hesitated for a fraction of a second before slipping the token into his sleeve. "Madame Liu had me assist with clearing the dishes," he answered smoothly.
Jenâer finally turned to face him, her lips pressed into a thin line. "And what was that in your hand just now?"
Lin Zhao froze, but only for an instant. "A token from His Majesty," he admitted, keeping his voice steady. There was no point in lyingâJenâer had seen it.
Jenâer scoffed, setting down a teacup with a little too much force. "How fortunate for you," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "A mere kitchen servant, rewarded so generously after a single season in service."
Lin Zhao swallowed back a retort. He had known this moment would come. It had been simmering in Jenâerâs eyes for weeks, ever since Madame Liu began favoring him over the others, bringing him along whenever she assisted in the Empress Dowagerâs palace.
"I serve as I am instructed," he said neutrally.
Jenâer let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. "Donât act so humble. We all know why Madame Liu chooses you." She took a step closer, lowering her voice. "Itâs your face, isnât it?"
Zing Chi shot her a warning glance, but Jenâer ignored it. "You think we donât see it? You look like you belong in the inner court, not the kitchens. No wonder the Emperorâs eyes always seem to land on you."
Lin Zhao stiffened. He had long grown used to the murmurs among the servants, but hearing it spoken so openly still sent a chill down his spine.
Zing Chi wiped her hands on her apron and sighed. "Enough, Jenâer. His Majestyâs favor is not something we should question so openly."
Jenâer clicked her tongue, turning away. "Iâm just saying what everyone is thinking," she muttered under her breath.
The conversation was cut short as Madame Liu stepped into the kitchen, her expression as unreadable as ever. "Lin Zhao, come with me," she ordered without preamble.
Lin Zhao quickly bowed and followed her out, leaving Jenâer and Zing Chi behind.
As they walked through the corridors, Madame Liuâs voice softened just enough for only him to hear. "You have caught His Majestyâs attention. That is both a blessing and a danger."
Lin Zhao kept his gaze lowered. "I only do as I am told, Madame."
She glanced at him, her sharp eyes searching. "Do you understand what it means to be favored by the Emperor?"
Lin Zhao hesitated.
She exhaled through her nose. "It means you must tread carefully. The palace is not kind to those who rise too quickly."
They arrived at a side chamber where several trays of fresh fruits and sweets had been arranged for the Empress Dowagerâs evening tea. Madame Liu picked up a lacquered box and handed it to him.
"This is a gift from the Empress Dowager to His Majesty. You will deliver it yourself."
Lin Zhaoâs eyes widened slightly. "Me?"
She gave a small nod. "And do not linger. You are there to serve, not to be noticed."
Lin Zhao swallowed and took the box, steadying his breath before stepping out into the cool night air.
As Lin Zhao walked toward the Emperorâs quarters, the silver token still hidden within his sleeve, he could not shake the lingering sensation of Jenâerâs burning gaze.
In the palace, favors were rarely given without reason. And they were even more rarely forgotten.
That night, as Lin Zhao returned to his sleeping quarters, he found a small tear in the corner of his folded garments. A warningâsubtle, but clear.
Jenâer was not the only one watching.
And the Emperor would return again tomorrow.