"Who let her out?"
A maid's shout landed before the slap. My cheek burned from the force. The hall froze for a breath, then erupted.
"Consort Yanyue—" a steward started, but Qin Xueyao cut him with a coo that sounded like silk dragged over glass. "How clumsy. You almost ruined my entrance."
"My entrance?" I wiped my hand across my face. Blood stung the corner of my lip. I tasted iron and cold anger.
"Stay where you are," Prince Suyu said. His voice was low, a steel line that made people step back. He did not lift his eyes. He never looked at me when the palace watched.
"Your Highness." Qin Xueyao bowed so deeply the tassels of her sleeves skimmed the floor. She did not look at me either. Her smile did not reach her eyes.
An attendant laughed, loud and quick. "Did the consort forget her place? Someone find a new pillow for her."
"Throw my pillow out if you like," I said. My voice was steady. Speech had more power than trembling. "At least tell me why I'm being treated like a servant's shadow."
Two maids flanked me. One held my sleeve as if to steady me. The other pressed a paper in my palm: an edict sealed with the prince's ring.
"Read it, then," the steward said. His mouth was thin. "It is the prince's decision."
I broke the wax with my nail. The characters stabbed at me—formal, final. The
