13 - Secrets Behind Silk Walls
936 Words
The banquet ended without blood.
Which, in Evelyn’s experience, rarely meant safety. It just meant the blade had not fallen yet.
She and Li Jian left separately to avoid feeding the court more than it had already consumed. But she felt the weight of the evening long after she returned to her chamber.
Li Wei’s eyes.
The whispers.
The prince’s hand around hers.
And perhaps worst of all, the memory of how natural it had felt.
She paced once across the room, then twice, before forcing herself to stop.
Thinking like this was dangerous.
Feeling like this was worse.
A rustle of movement came from beyond the silk partition near the rear wall.
Evelyn turned instantly.
No hesitation.
One of the decorative pins from her dressing table was in her hand before she consciously reached for it.
“Come out.”
Silence.
Then a figure emerged slowly from behind the hanging silk.
A girl. Young. Terrified. Dressed as a maid.
Evelyn’s expression didn’t soften. “Why are you in my room?”
The girl dropped to her knees. “Mercy, my lady—I meant no harm.”
“You entered my chamber uninvited after midnight. Try again.”
Tears sprang into the girl’s eyes. “I was told only to search. I swear it. I was not sent to kill you.”
That narrowed the field, but not enough.
“Who sent you?”
The maid’s mouth trembled.
Evelyn stepped closer, voice quiet and deadly. “You have one chance.”
The girl whispered a name Evelyn had expected and still felt chilled to hear.
“Prince Li Wei’s steward.”
Of course.
Evelyn crouched in front of her. “What were you looking for?”
“I don’t know. Letters, perhaps. Proof. Anything strange.” She swallowed hard. “They said if I found something unusual, I was to report it immediately.”
Unusual.
A woman who appeared from nowhere would qualify.
Evelyn stood. “Get up.”
The maid looked startled. “You… you won’t call the guards?”
“Not yet.” Evelyn studied her. Fear seemed genuine. “If I let you go, you will return to the steward and tell him you found nothing. Do you understand?”
The girl nodded quickly.
“And if he asks what you saw?”
“That your chamber was ordinary.”
Evelyn almost smiled. “Convincing lie.”
The maid fled as soon as she was dismissed.
Evelyn didn’t waste time. She crossed to the small lacquered chest where she had hidden the jade pendant beneath layers of folded cloth. When she drew it out, the stone was cool, quiet, innocent.
As if it hadn’t shattered her world.
She stared at it for a long moment before wrapping it again and tucking it inside the inner lining of her robe.
Someone was searching her room because someone suspected there was more to her than she claimed.
They were right.
A knock came—two short taps, one pause, then another. Not formal. Not cautious. Deliberate.
She opened the door to find Li Jian.
His gaze swept over her face instantly. “What happened?”
Evelyn blinked. “You say that like it’s obvious.”
“It is.”
She stepped aside to let him in. “A maid was in my chamber.”
His expression hardened at once. “Sent by?”
“Your brother’s household.”
A dangerous stillness settled over him.
“Did she take anything?”
“No.”
“Did she see anything?”
“Not unless silk screens have started reporting treason.”
He ignored the joke. “Evelyn.”
“She saw nothing,” she said more gently. “But they’re looking.”
Li Jian moved deeper into the room, every line of him tense. “Then I was right to move you here.”
“You say that as if this room is secure.”
“It will be.”
She watched him closely. “You can’t control everything.”
“No,” he said. “But I can control who gets near you.”
The words landed harder than they should have.
His gaze shifted—down to the robe she had hastily wrapped tighter around herself, then up again. Awareness flashed between them.
He looked away first, but only just.
“You should be guarded at all times now.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It isn’t optional.”
Her chin lifted. “You give a lot of orders for someone who isn’t my king.”
That pulled his eyes back to hers immediately.
The silence stretched.
Then he stepped closer.
Close enough that she felt the shift in the air, the warmth of him, the danger of staying exactly where she was.
“No,” he said quietly. “Not your king.”
Her pulse beat hard once. Then again.
“Then what are you?” she asked before she could stop herself.
For one impossible second, something raw crossed his expression.
Not command.
Not caution.
Something much more dangerous.
“A man,” he said, voice low, “trying very hard not to forget what you are to me.”
Her breath caught.
“And what am I to you?”
He looked at her as though the answer lived somewhere between them already.
“That,” he said, “is precisely the problem.”
Then he turned and walked out, leaving her alone with a pounding heart, a hidden jade pendant, and the terrible certainty that the walls of the palace were not the only thing closing in around her.
- Writer
