Chapter 5 The Feast of Knives🥀

> "In the palace, the wine is sweet, but the smiles are poison."

-Anonymous court whisper

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The invitation arrived on a scroll of gold-flecked silk.

A royal summons-hand-delivered, sealed in the dragon's crest of the imperial household. The message was simple, ceremonial:

> "His Majesty invites the newly titled Duchess of Hei'an to a banquet of honor and tribute."

Yue Lin held it between two fingers as if it were venomous.

Because it was.

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Hei'an Manor – Morning Before the Banquet

She stood before a lacquered mirror in her new chambers, dressed in a robe of pale ivory silk, embroidered with phoenixes rising from flame. Her hair was twisted into a crown braid, delicate pins speared through like weapons disguised in beauty.

Behind her, maids fluttered about, nervous, obedient.

All of them knew tonight was a test.

The Emperor had never summoned a newly claimed wife of the Duke before. Especially not one rumored to have tried to kill him.

They called her a witch behind her back.

A foreign shadow. A wolf in silk.

And Yue Lin, assassin reborn, did nothing to deny it.

She merely adjusted a jade hairpin and said calmly, "If I don't return by midnight, burn everything I touched."

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Hei'an Manor – The Duke Watches

From the high balcony, Li Zeyan watched her enter the carriage.

He wore full black court robes, hair tied with a silver crownpiece. A general's armor beneath.

He had not stopped her from going.

Not because he didn't care.

But because he wanted them to try.

Let the court sharpen their claws. Let the snakes slither into her path.

She would make them bleed.

And if they touched her-he would make the entire capital burn.

---

The Imperial Banquet Hall

The Hall of Painted Eternity lived up to its name. A thousand candle flames danced in gold bowls suspended from the ceiling, their light reflected off jade pillars and dragon-carved floors. Music hummed from stringed zithers. The air smelled of plum wine, lacquer, and quiet treachery.

The nobles were already seated-concubines with fox eyes, generals with stiff backs, eunuchs like polished shadows, and scholars dripping in silk.

Then she arrived.

All movement stopped.

Yue Lin stepped into the hall like she had always belonged-chin high, face expressionless, dressed in fire-gold robes the Duke had personally chosen. A pearl-studded veil covered the lower half of her face.

A mystery. A threat. A target.

The Emperor, seated atop his dragon throne, narrowed his eyes.

> "So," he said lazily, "this is the woman who tamed my hound."

Laughter rippled, cautious and cold.

Yue Lin bowed. "Your Majesty is mistaken. He is not tamed. He merely chose not to bite."

That earned a ripple of shocked silence.

And from the shadows behind the Emperor's screen, Li Zeyan smiled.

> Good, he thought. Don't kneel. Make them fear you.

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The First Poison

The wine was offered in an imperial cup-golden, rimmed in garnet. A gift, the Emperor claimed. An honor.

But Yue Lin's fingers brushed the rim, and she paused. Her gaze flicked to the eunuch pouring.

> Bitter almond.

Subtle.

They used the Emperor's own cup to hide it.

She lifted the cup, stared into its depths.

Then, deliberately, she turned-and offered it to the Emperor.

"Please, Your Majesty. This honor is too great for someone like me. Let me serve you instead."

A hush fell across the room.

The Emperor's eyes narrowed.

"Are you refusing my gift?"

"I'm offering it back."

She held his gaze-unyielding.

It was a challenge. A defiance. And a warning.

Behind the screen, Li Zeyan clenched the hilt of his sword once, then released it.

He would not interfere.

Yet.

---

The First Enemy

When Yue Lin returned to her seat, a delicate voice beside her spoke.

"Your sleeves are too long," murmured a woman in pale green robes. "How do you fight if you trip over yourself?"

It was Concubine Shu, the Emperor's favored consort-known for her beauty, her ambition, and the trail of bodies left behind her.

Yue Lin turned slowly. Smiled behind her veil.

"I never fight," she said softly. "I kill."

Concubine Shu's hand twitched on her fan.

But Yue Lin was already reaching for a candied plum, her posture elegant, her face serene.

---

The Final Performance

By the end of the banquet, the games grew bolder.

A noble "accidentally" spilled soup on her robe.

A court musician played a tune from the southern rebel provinces, baiting her to react.

Another concubine brushed her shoulder and whispered, "You smell like death. Do you dream of blood?"

Yue Lin bore it all like ice in a teacup.

Unmoved.

But inside, her mind was already mapping out faces, voices, movements. Every threat, every lie. Who was aligned. Who was afraid. Who could be broken first.

When she finally stood to take her leave, the Emperor waved a dismissive hand.

"You're clever," he said. "I see why my Duke chose you. Let's hope cleverness doesn't become arrogance."

She bowed again.

And in a voice cold as silk, replied,

> "Arrogance is for those who forget what knives feel like in the dark."

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Hei'an Manor – Midnight

She returned just before midnight.

Her robe was still pristine.

But her hands were red-with someone else's blood.

The maids rushed to help her disrobe, panicked.

She merely said, "Boil the cloth. Burn the slippers. And send a letter to the concubine's family."

"What... what should it say, my lady?"

Yue Lin turned to the lantern, brushing blood from her sleeve.

"Tell them," she said, "her tongue was too sharp. She lost it in the dark."

---

And somewhere in the hidden Sanctum...

The Duke stood before her latest portrait.

A new brushstroke added.

> The way she smiled when threatened.

He stared at it long after the lamps had burned low.

> She's remembering, he thought.

Not with her mind. But with her soul.

And one day soon... she'll remember me, too.

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