I didn't sleep that night.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I remembered everything.
The quiet footsteps in the corridor. The way the Imperial Envoy would arrive before noon. The scent of jasmine in the air from the garden my mother never let them uproot. I sat at the window until the sun rose, watching petals fall like it was all happening for the first time.
But it wasn't.
This was the second time.
The robe laid out for me was the same pale lavender one I had worn before. Jiu'er helped me dress, her hands gentle, but she kept stealing glances at me. Maybe she sensed something. Or maybe I was already changing.
At breakfast, my mother said nothing. She never did. She sat at the head of the table, her spine straight, her expression unreadable. She watched me pour tea like she was still trying to decide if I was worth betting her status on.
"She looks well," she said finally, directing it at no one in particular.
"She was only ill for a moment," Jiu'er replied with a bow. Her voice was soft, careful, already learning the weight of silence in this house.
My mother didn't ask what kind of illness it was.
She never cared for the details.
I drank quietly and studied her face. I used to crave her approval. Now I saw her for what she was, just another piece of the palace game. Sharp, polished, and only loyal to the highest seat in the room.
The Imperial Envoy arrived just before noon.
I heard the trumpets first. Then the rustle of silk as servants scrambled to form their rows. I stepped into the courtyard like a doll on display.
He stood in gold-trimmed robes, scroll in hand, his voice steady as he read from the decree. His words echoed off the stone walls.
The Second Princess of the Zhao family is hereby chosen by His Majesty to enter the palace as Crown Princess of the Empire.
My father stood proud beside him. I watched his chest rise a little higher as the words hit the air. He bowed. Thanked the envoy. Spoke like a man who believed this was the peak of his legacy.
I stayed on my knees, eyes lowered.
The first time, my hands had trembled.
This time, they were still.
The scroll was handed to me. I touched it with the same reverence I remembered. The same careful hands. The same smile.
But something new burned behind my eyes.
The first time, I believed I had been chosen because I was worthy. Because I was kind. Because I was obedient.
This time, I knew better.
I accepted the Imperial decree.
I accepted the path to my own death.
But only because I had no intention of walking it the same way again.
That night, I sat by the candlelight and wrote a list.
Names. Faces. People I remembered. People I needed to watch.
Meiyan's name went at the top.
Below it, the woman who introduced her to the palace. Two ministers. The eunuch with the sharp smile. A concubine I once trusted.
Every name had a memory attached to it.
And I would not forget this time.
They were choosing the same girl.
But she wasn't the same anymore.