Lady Renge did not blink. She didn’t laugh. She stared at me, her dark eyes analyzing my face for any sign of a bluff.

"You are a very bold little rat," Renge said slowly, the insult lacking its usual bite. "To walk into my pavilion and claim you hold the Emperor’s strings."

"I don’t hold his strings," I corrected, leaning back. "I’m just holding the scissors. The Emperor is dying, Lady Renge. He has the Spiritual Rot."

Renge’s perfectly manicured hands twitched. The information hit her like a physical blow. Her eyes widened, processing the sheer magnitude of the secret.

"The Rot," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "That explains the stench in his chambers. The weakness. The sudden, desperate haste to adopt an heir he despises."

"He doesn’t want an heir," Akira’s dark, vibrating voice filled the room. He stepped slightly in front of me, a protective shadow. "He wants a battery. He adopted me to anchor my demonic core to the capital’s leylines. He is planning to drain my magic to heal his rotting organs."

Renge stared at the Warlord. The sheer horror of the Emperor’s parasitic plan washed over her face. She was ruthless, yes, but even she found the concept of a magical organ-harvesting ritual repulsive.

Suddenly, Renge’s eyes snapped to me. The brilliant, terrifying mind of the ultimate palace survivor put the final pieces together.

"The soul-tether," Renge breathed, staring at my chest where the Consort Mark lay hidden beneath my chainmail. "The Warlord’s core will automatically resist the drain as long as he is anchored to you. To safely extract his magic..."

"The Emperor has to kill me," I finished with a tight smile. "Which is why he summoned me to the Ancestral Shrine. You saved my life, Renge. Now, I need you to save my husband’s."

"And in return?" Renge asked, her voice turning completely business-like. "What do I get from this treasonous transaction?"

"When the Emperor falls," Akira said, his amber eyes locking onto hers, "the throne will be empty. I do not want it. I am a Warlord of the North. If you give us the Emperor’s ambush plan, I will legally abdicate the title of Crown Prince the moment the Emperor is dead."

Renge’s breath hitched.

"If I abdicate," Akira continued coldly, "the succession falls back to the previous heir. Ryu."

It was the ultimate offer. We were literally handing her son the Empire, wrapped in a bow, in exchange for one piece of information.

Renge looked down at her hands. I could see the maternal desperation fighting with her political caution. If the Emperor caught her, she and Ryu were dead. But if she helped us, she won everything.

"The Spring Purification Regatta," Renge whispered, looking up. "It is in three days."

I frowned. "A boat race?"

"A sacred procession," Renge corrected, her eyes sharp. "The Imperial Court boards decorated barges and floats down the capital’s central river to the Sacred Lake. As the new Crown Prince, Akira is required to ride alone on the lead barge to offer the first prayer."

"Let me guess," I sighed, crossing my arms. "The lead barge is magically rigged." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

"The Imperial Mages have been working in the hidden docks for two days," Renge confirmed. "They are carving a massive, portable leyline extraction array directly into the hull of the boat, hidden beneath the floorboards. When the barge reaches the center of the lake, far from the crowds, the Emperor will trigger the trap."

"And because it’s on the water," Akira growled, "the array will draw power from the river’s leylines. It will be ten times stronger than the one in the throne room."

"Exactly," Renge nodded. She looked at me, a strange, cold respect in her eyes. "He plans to drain the Warlord on the lake. And while Akira is trapped on the boat, the Emperor’s personal shadow guard is going to slaughter the East Palace. You won’t survive the regatta, little rat."

"I survived a toxic basement for nine years," I reminded her cheerfully. "A boat ride sounds like a nice vacation."

CRASH.

The sound of shattering clay echoed from the adjoining room.

The paper screens slid open violently, and a pathetic, drunken figure stumbled into the dim light.

It was Ryu. The former Crown Prince looked absolutely terrible. His hair was greasy, his robes were stained with spilled wine, and his bandaged arm was clutched tightly to his chest.

"Mother!" Ryu whined, his bloodshot eyes darting around wildly. "I heard voices! Are the guards here? Did Father send—"

Ryu froze.

His eyes locked onto Akira.

The Warlord didn’t move. He didn’t draw his sword. He just let a fraction of his terrifying, freezing aura bleed into the room. The temperature plummeted.

Ryu let out a high-pitched, pathetic shriek. He stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet and crashing onto the floorboards.

"Demon!" Ryu screamed, scrambling backward like a terrified crab. "Mother, help me! He’s here to kill me!"

Akira looked down at his cousin with absolute, unadulterated disgust.

Lady Renge didn’t rush to comfort her son. She stood up, her black robes rustling, and walked over to the shivering mess of a prince.

"Get up," Renge snapped, her voice like a whip. "Stop crying like a beaten dog in front of our guests."

"He’s a monster!" Ryu sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at Akira.

SMACK.

Renge delivered a sharp, stinging backhand to Ryu’s cheek. The sound echoed loudly in the quiet pavilion. Ryu gasped, holding his face in pure shock.

"I told you to get up," Renge hissed, her eyes blazing with cold fury. "If you ever want to sit on the Chrysanthemum Throne again, you will stop weeping and act like an Emperor. Now go back to your room."

Ryu scrambled to his feet, too terrified of his mother to argue, and practically ran back through the sliding doors, slamming them shut behind him.

I watched the exchange with morbid fascination. Renge’s love for her son was genuine, but her parenting methods were absolutely toxic. It was the "White Lotus" strategy applied to motherhood: prune the weak branches violently so the tree grows strong.

Renge turned back to us, smoothing her black silk robes as if she hadn’t just slapped her son across the room.

"You have your information," Renge said coldly. "The boat is the trap. The regatta is in three days. Do whatever you must. But if my son is harmed in the crossfire, I will personally ensure the Shadow Guild hunts you to the ends of the earth."

"Pleasure doing business with you," I said, standing up and brushing off my knees.

Akira didn’t say a word to her. He just placed a heavy, protective hand on the small of my back and guided me out of the dim room.

We slipped out of the Western Pavilion, retracing our steps through the dark, overgrown gardens. The silence between us was heavy.

"A rigged boat," I finally whispered as we neared the safety of the East Palace. "Yuki can’t just flip the array this time. If he does, he’ll fry the boat, and it’ll sink with you on it."

"I will not get on the boat," Akira stated flatly.

"You have to," I argued. "If you refuse the regatta, the Emperor will know Renge tipped us off. He’ll execute her, he’ll execute Ryu, and he’ll declare war on the North. We need to let him spring the trap so we can catch him in it publicly."

Akira stopped walking.

We were standing under the massive branches of a cherry blossom tree, hidden from the moonlight. He turned to me, his hands grabbing my shoulders. The frantic, dark energy in his eyes was back, burning hotter than ever.

"Kitsune, you don’t understand," Akira said, his voice a desperate, ragged whisper. "If I am trapped on that lake, I cannot protect you. He is going to send his elite guard to the East Palace. I will not leave you alone to be slaughtered."

"I won’t be alone," I promised, reaching up to cup his face. His jaw was so tense it felt like stone. "I have Yua. I have Rin. I have Yuki."

"Yuki can’t do it alone plus he complains about everything," Akira growled, his fear making him harsh. "He cannot hold off the Emperor’s personal guard!"

"Akira," I said firmly, forcing him to look directly into my eyes. "I survived Uncle Kenji for nine years without any magic. I survived the assassins in the Ancestral Shrine. You need to trust me. I am not going to die."

Akira closed his eyes, a pained shudder running through his massive frame. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine.

He wanted to tell me. I could feel it in the way his hands gripped my shoulders, trembling slightly. There was a secret resting right on the tip of his tongue, a heavy, suffocating truth that he was desperately trying to hold back.

But he didn’t say it.

He just let out a long, broken sigh, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a crushing hug.

"Three days," Akira whispered into my hair, his voice sounding completely wrecked. "We have three days to figure out how to destroy a boat, overthrow an Emperor, and get you out of this cursed city."

"We’ll do it," I promised, hugging him back just as fiercely.

I didn’t know what secret he was hiding. But as I stood there in the dark, held together by the Demon Prince of the Empire, I knew one thing for absolute certain.

The Emperor thought he had the perfect trap. But the Emperor didn’t know that basement rats were incredibly good at chewing through the floorboards.

We were going to sink that boat.