Page 60 of The Immortal’s Mark

He leaves.

I stand alone in the war chamber, surrounded by maps of an empire built on bones.

An hour ago, I stood on a balcony and resented this man for making her laugh. I counted the minutes like they belonged to me. Like I had any claim.

His son was sixteen. His son died holding a corridor so others could live.

And I was jealous of a conversation.

This is what the throne costs, I think. This is what I owe.

Lady Mei’s chambers are full of things you’re not supposed to notice. Silk screens painted with landscapes that hide alcoves. Alcoves that hide things even I am not meant to see. Old scrolls stacked like weapons. The kind of room where every surface is a misdirection.

Mei has served the throne since before my father took it. Her networks extend further than the empire’s borders. Her methods are questionable. Her results are undeniable.

I do not trust her.

I do not distrust her either.

I find her the way I always find her—seated at her desk, reports spread before her like offerings, her face composed in an expression that reveals nothing and suggests everything.

“Your Majesty.” She does not rise. A liberty I have permitted for so long it would be strange to revoke it now. “You received my message.”

“You have names.”

“I have names.” She gestures to the documents. “The cult’s funding traces through seven shell organizations. Silk merchants in the western provinces. A jade trading consortium. A wine import business that has never imported wine.” Her smile is thin. “Someone has been very careful for a very long time.”

I take the list she offers. Three names: mid-level officials with access to supply chains, none of them significant enough to attract suspicion, all of them significant enough to move money.

“The funding predates General Wei’s current command,” Mei continues. “By approximately fifteen years.”

I look up.

“The General’s infrastructure was used,” she says. “But not by the General. Someone else was in position before Wei took command. Someone who had access to military logistics for reasons that had nothing to do with military logistics.”

This clears Wei. Or should clear Wei. Except that Mei’s smile has not changed, and Lady Mei does not share information without purpose.

“You have more.”

“I have observations.” She folds her hands. “The assassin. She is good.”

“I am aware.”

“I mean for you, Your Majesty.” The smile sharpens. “You have been less careful since she arrived. Less guarded. The court notices. The servants notice. I notice.”

I do not react.

“Is this a warning, Lady Mei?”

“It is an observation.” She tilts her head, studying me the way she studies everyone—cataloging tells, measuring weaknesses, filing information for future use. “I am not your enemy, Your Majesty. I may be the only person in this palace honest enough to tell you what I see.”

“And what do you see?”

She is silent for a long moment. When she speaks again, her voice has changed. Softer. Almost human.

“Everyone who serves the throne has lost something to earn their place here.” The mask slips, just slightly. “I lost a daughter. Wei lost a son. Feng lost his pride.”

I did not know about the daughter. Mei’s files are thorough—I thought I knew everything about my advisors. Apparently not.