The summons arrived embroidered in gold thread.
"By request of Her Majesty the Empress," the eunuch read aloud, "Lady Shen is invited for tea in the Cinnabar Hall."
Zhou frowned. "She hasn't acknowledged you once before."
Shen Lian folded the scroll. "Then now, she's decided I'm worth noticing—or removing."
Cinnabar Hall was quiet. Too quiet.
The Empress waited on a dais, draped in scarlet silk and shaded by an ivory fan. Her gaze was calm, distant.
"Lady Shen," she said without warmth. "You've returned from exile with quite the... fragrance."
"South Garrison is generous with its herbs," Shen Lian replied, bowing.
The Empress motioned to a seat.
Tea was served—steaming, pale green, floral.
"You've drawn the eye of many," the Empress said. "Men, women, even His Majesty. That can be dangerous."
"I find it more dangerous," Shen Lian said, lifting her cup, "to be overlooked."
The Empress smiled faintly. "Tell me, do you drink everything so easily?"
Shen Lian took a slow sip.
Then placed the cup down. "Only when I already know the ingredients."
The Empress's fan stilled for just a moment.
Later, as Shen Lian exited the hall, Zhou stepped from behind a pillar.
"You drank it?"
"Of course."
"She was testing you."
"And I passed."
She handed him the silk napkin she'd used—still damp.
"Have the apothecary test this. I want to know how she plans to kill me next."