The room was suffocating. Samaya’s hands were still a little numb from how hard she held Lady Ren. She shouldn’t have; her strength was greater than that of the average woman. But Lady Ren seemed to need it. She now stood motionless by the window of her chambers, her usually sharp gaze unfocused. Lady Ren’s departure, marked by hollow eyes and trembling hands, left a heavy silence in its wake. Samaya could still feel the echo of her grief, a raw, guttural emotion that seemed to seep into her veins.

The air smelled of incense, its sweet, cloying aroma a futile attempt to mask the acrid stench of smoke that haunted her. Samaya clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. It was the only sensation tethering her to the present. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the day—the way the flames consumed Rin’s fragile body in the courtyard, the screams, the charred body, the bones peaking through, the smell of burnt flesh and the ash carried away by the wind.

She could not get those images out of her mind. They seemed embedded into her very soul. What had that poor girl done to deserve this? Samaya’s mind swung back and forth between the joyous Rin running with Su and the cacophony of screams coming from them as one burned and the other tried to get to her.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was sharp but hesitant, a familiar sound. She easily recognized the knock, the presence, even without her ability to recognize patterns.

"Enter," she said, her voice colder than she intended, calmer than she thought it would be.

The door creaked open to reveal Ah-Liu. His expression was grave, his usually quick, observant eyes carrying a weight that matched her own. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him before walking to her, his movements measured.

"Jiejie," he whispered, his voice low.

Her eyes softened just a bit. For all that the boy followed her like a chick following a duck, he also interacted with the servants much more than he did. He could be good acquaintance wth them, if not friends. This must be hard for him too. Not to mention, the boy had a tendency to worry about her too much.

She exhaled softly. “It’s okay.” That was all the assurance she could bring herself to give right now.

"Did you find anything?”

Ah-Liu nodded.

Samaya straightened, gesturing for him to continue. Her heart pounded against her ribcage.

Ah-Liu hesitated for a brief moment, then pressed on. "One of Lady Ren’s maids mentioned seeing Rin walking with another servant just before the … incident," he said carefully. "She thought it odd but was too preoccupied with her work to think about it. Later, Rin returned alone—dishevelled, her clothes barely intact. The girl mentioned that she was holding the clothes to her body. She was crying and muttering about needing to cleanse herself. That was the last anyone saw of her before she went into the courtyard to…"

Ah-Liu trailed off.

Samaya’s breath caught in her throat. The description painted a harrowing picture, one that filled her with equal parts fury and despair. Again. That monster got her again. While she was kneeling uselessly in the middle of the field, that fucker somehow got his hands on her again!

A part of her reminded her that she did not know that it was the same person, but every bone in her body was screaming that it was.

Ah-Liu hesitated, his brow furrowed in concern. "The maid who was walking with Rin earlier … I believe she may know more," he said, his voice laced with urgency. "She was uneasy when I questioned her. She’s in her chambers now."

Samaya felt a flicker of hope. She had a pretty good idea of what had happened now. She just needed to figure out how the maid figured into all of that. And she needed to see whether she could get the girl to testify. She had to hurry. In the harem, loose ends were rarely left untied.

"Take me to her," she ordered, already moving toward the door.

Ah-Liu led the way, his pace brisk yet cautious as they navigated the shadowy halls. The air felt heavier with each step, a gnawing dread settling in Samaya’s chest. Her mind raced through possibilities.

If this maid knew something significant, she could be in danger. Have I waited too long?

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The walk to the maid’s quarters was mercifully short, but the sight that awaited them brought Samaya to a halt.

The door was ajar, the faint light from a single oil lamp spilling out into the corridor. Samaya felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on their ends. Something was wrong. Ah-Liu froze, his instincts honed from years of subterfuge. He exchanged a glance with Samaya before stepping forward and pushing the door open fully.

Inside, the room was silent. Too silent.

The maid lay crumpled on the floor, her figure unnaturally still. Her wrist was slashed, crimson staining the rough floorboards beneath her. The sharp tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of lavender oil. The serenity of the room sat in sharp contrast to the violence that had unfolded here. A folded note was tucked into her lifeless hand, its stark white edges almost mocking in their clarity.

Samaya stepped inside, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. There was no sign of a struggle—the bedding was undisturbed, the furniture unbroken. The cut on the maid’s wrist was precise, almost surgical. Too clean, too deliberate.

Ah-Liu crouched beside the body, his expression grim. "It’s too late," he said softly, his voice.

Samaya could tell

She knelt, her movements deliberate as she studied the maid’s lifeless form. There was no sign of a struggle—the bed remained neat, the furniture undisturbed. The cut on her wrist was unnervingly precise, too clean for desperation, too decisive. No usual maid of the Harem would be able to make that cut.

"This isn’t suicide," Samaya said, her voice sharp with certainty. One might ask why she was going off of pure speculation. It was because she had seen this happen far too many times. Heck, she had even made some of those happen.

She crouched beside the body, her fingers brushing against the note clutched in the maid’s hand. The parchment was folded neatly, as though placed there with care. Samaya unfolded it, her eyes scanning the contents.

"It was my fault. Forgive me."

The handwriting was neat, deliberate, and achingly familiar. A chill ran down Samaya’s spine as memories surfaced—another note, another maid, another "suicide." The connection was undeniable, the patterns too consistent to ignore. Both times, the Kang family had been implicated.

The deja vu was strong with this one.

"The Kang family," she whispered, her voice laced with venom. “It seems it was them the last time too.”

Ah-Liu frowned. "They clearly knew we would be coming."

Samaya nodded. “The maid knew something. And they knew that.” She frowned slightly and looked around. “The maid knew them. Or the killer, at least."

Ah-Liu blinked. “Personally?”

Samaya gave a small nod. “Look around. No signs of struggle. Nothing was even moved or put back. Not even a speck of dust unsettled. Except …” her eyes flicked to the small bed, where the sheets were creased and rumpled, slightly moved from its place here and there. She stood and walked to the bed, gently touching it at places. Dry.

“A lover?” Ah-Liu asked. The boy wasn’t an idiot.

“Perhaps.” She tilted her head and frowned. “Nothing much happened. Perhaps he was her killer too.”

"What’s the plan now?"

Samaya’s gaze was steely as she looked back. Her eyes flickered to the maid.

"Arrange for her body to be tended to," she instructed Ah-Liu. “You will need to inform the Emperor. But see if you can make some arrangements to get this body examined. Not in the Palace. Approach the Fallen Phoenix Sect. Use my name, if need be.”

She did have a reputation. Or well, Cuòjué did.

She then paused.

"Make arrangements for me to leave the palace tonight," she said. "I will be in disguise and you need to make sure I can sneak the past the guards."

Ah-Liu nodded without question.

As he slipped out of the room, Samaya turned her attention back to the maid’s lifeless body. A pang of guilt stabbed at her heart. This young woman had been caught in the crossfire of a battle she likely didn’t even understand.

"You didn’t deserve this," Samaya murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "But I’ll make sure your death wasn’t in vain."

She straightened, tucking the note into the folds of her sleeve. Leaving the room, she felt a dark resolve settle over her. She pushed down all the thoughts and emotions except for one: a murderous rage that wanted to swallow the entire Kang Family whole.

Back in her chambers, Samaya ensured everyone was asleep before she got to work. A simple cloak, clothes of a commoner man, hair pulled up into a topknot, a concealed dagger, a pouch of coins—each item chosen with precision.

When Ah-Liu returned, his expression was one of quiet determination. "We can leave now.”

Samaya nodded, her gratitude unspoken but understood.

She turned and arranged her pillows to the side of Manu so he wouldn’t feel the empty space and placed a talisman to keep Manu warm in her absence. It wouldn’t do much if he felt something was wrong and woke up. But hopefully, she would be back by then.

She had to be.

With a deep breath, she pulled her cloak around her shoulders and stepped into the night. As she made her way through the palace grounds, her heart was heavy with the weight of what lay ahead. But beneath the heaviness was a spark—a flame of defiance that refused to be extinguished.

The Kang family had underestimated her.

They wouldn’t make that mistake again.

The Kang family’s power was rooted in their connections—alliances forged through marriage, trade, and shared secrets. That was what was protecting that damn monster. However, in the deep, dark of the Underground, none of those held any ground.

That fucker did not deserve the due process.

He did not deserve the grace of the law.

He did not deserve mercy.

He deserved to be torn apart.

He deserved to feel every bit of pain that Rin felt.

And that was exactly what she would arrange for.