MARISSA LIN

It took a couple of days to get from Lotus Peak to the southern city of Yenlun, a mid-tier trade hub nestled between the fertile plains and the inland routes that led toward the Southern Region. The last few days had been… tense.

One might even say awkward.

Marissa had spent time around Tier-1 nobles before. She’d had more than her share of admirers over the years—especially after she’d filled out and people stopped pretending not to notice her. But this? Traveling in the same company as Vivian Li and Princess Sophie? It was like being caught between a glacier and a sunrise, and trying not to get burned or frozen.

What surprised her most, though, was how different Sophie was from the imperial image, which had been carefully cultivated over the past ten years. Something Marissa desperately wanted an explanation for—one she doubted she would ever get.

On PathIcon reels, even with the veil hiding most of her face, Sophie had always come across as regal. Remote. Polished to the point of inaccessibility. The kind of woman who could silence a dinner table with a glance and never raise her voice to do it.

In person?

The princess had a dry humor with wicked timing. She possesed a sharp wit which was hidden behind every sigh. She was louder, more talkative and abrasive than Marissa would ever have guessed. She was also kind, interested, good-natured—and startlingly good at getting under Vivian’s skin.

And Vivian—well, Vivian was everything people said about her and then some. Back at the Zhou household, Marissa had told Vivian that she was a fan. That was true. Every woman subconsciously compared herself to the Four Great Beauties of the Empire, and especially to Vivian Li. She was an icon, damn near an institution, with rabid fans everywhere. Marissa included—until the Li Household stole her soulmate. Marissa had flipped a switch then. Vivian became someone to rival, and she was not one to back down.

But that didn’t mean Marissa didn’t understand what she was against. Vivian was arguably even more famous than the Princess. Beautiful in that overwhelming, “men-write-poems-about-you” kind of way. Dangerous in a “she-could-kill-you-or-marry-you” state of being. More importantly, Vivian wasn’t veiled. She didn’t hide her appearance, her talent, or her ambition. She was too proud for that. She’d been visible for years—on the Magenet through PathIcons, at duels, at ceremonies. A living fantasy sculpted into a woman.

It was interesting to see the woman behind the icon. In the bit of traveling they had done together and the time they’d spent at the Zhou estate, Marissa felt the pressure on her. That kind of pedigree came with its own gravity. People talked about “pretty privilege,” but they rarely talked about the expectation that came with being that pretty. That powerful. That visible.

Vivian was the Li heiress. A prodigy. A political weapon. She didn’t get to just look beautiful—she had to wield it.

Probably similar to the Princess.

But the most fascinating thing of all in this whole mess was watching her bicker with the Princess.

Back and forth. Over routes. Over diplomacy. Over strategy. And—especially—over Ethan Zhou.

Neither of them seemed to realize how obviously they were unconsciously staking territory every time his name came up. They never said it outright. Never admitted they were circling the same gravity well.

But every time someone mentioned Ethan—his research, his training, the Imperial Academy symposium—the temperature shifted.

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Sophie would make a clever, sideways comment. Vivian would glare and fire back.

And Marissa, who was usually content to stir the pot, found herself strangely reluctant to poke either one too hard. The twins and Elizabeth seemed content to let it ride. Anmei just giggled at the whole thing.

The two-day journey from Lotus Peak to Yenlun was a lot of fun because of this constant tension.

They arrived in Yenlun just after midday. The city was busy—louder and more colorful than the others, including the Princess, had expected. Stone walls rose in pale gray slats, etched with trade seals and merchant guild runes. The city was one of the biggest in the Southern Region and hadn’t declared fealty to any major house in generations. It survived by facilitating business, not politics. And it actually had elected officials, who reported to the Imperial Family of course, that ran the day-to-day operations.

Marissa’s family knew them well.

It was actually a pain to make arrangements through her family. A faster and more direct option would have been to take a flying carriage. The problem was twofold with that plan: first, the chaos energy—dense and unpredictable—made the skies treacherous, especially for Imperial tech that relied on stable mana fields. Second, ground routes, though slower, were safer, allowing for more careful navigation of the independent city-states that guarded their borders with suspicion.

These set backs could have been dealt with but the Princess thought someone might be looking for them and the flight manifests and registration that came with that type of transportation made tracking easy, too easy.

So they came over land.

After their arrival, Marissa made her way to the Merchant Quarter of Yenlun while Vivian, Elizabeth, and Princess Sophie holed up in a second-story midtown suite. Marissa, grateful for the excuse to escape, had taken the twins—Emily and Elise—down to the merchant hall to arrange travel.

Her merchant house credentials held weight here. She flashed her sigil at the gate desk and breezed past the tariff clerks, her robe trailing behind her in a purposeful swirl. The hall smelled like sandalwood, sun-warmed stone, and money. Dozens of merchant banners fluttered from the rafters, and private caravans were already being registered by proxy.

She was halfway through negotiating a sealed coach route with a trade captain from the southern coast—well-groomed, arrogant, clearly underestimating her—when she spotted it.

Or rather, them.

A row of recruitment posters, pinned neatly against the stone archway near the hall entrance.

Marissa blinked, squinted. Walked closer.

And there it was: the seal.

Not the Li crest. Not a house banner. A stylized mark burned in crimson ink—half rune, half gear—and Ethan’s name beneath it.

ZHOU ETHAN.

Clean calligraphy. Slogans in small script beneath the main header:

STRENGTHEN THE LINE. JOIN THE LI HOUSE MILITARY EXPANSION. FOR THE EMPIRE. FOR THE LI.

And below that, a smaller, yet equally prominent image: Nathan Li, striking a dynamic, confident pose, his own name etched just beneath Ethan’s.

Marissa’s stomach tightened.

She didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the right. He was doing something that mattered. That changed things. She’d known he was brilliant. Had known before Vivian had even looked twice at him.

But something about seeing it here—so public, so loud, so unshakably confident, and explicitly tied to military expansion with Nathan—made her throat feel tight.

She heard the rustle of fabric before she heard the footsteps.

Vivian had come down. Probably to check on her. Maybe to handle the travel arrangements herself. Maybe just to be contrary.

Marissa didn’t turn around. Vivian came to a full stop beside her. The air shifted. Neither of them said anything.

For a moment, the whole hall kept moving around them—but they stood still. Locked in some frozen standoff that no one else could see.

The poster fluttered faintly in the breeze.

Then, softly—carefully—Vivian said, “He’s recruiting.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Clearly,” Marissa replied, her voice lighter than she felt. “He’s building an army. The question is why? Why would he need an army?”

Vivian didn’t speak. Not right away.

Marissa risked a sideways glance.

Vivian’s expression hadn’t changed. But her hands were clenched around her message crystal which was already glowing.

She tapped it once and the stopped and shut her eyes.

Spoke softly, her voice barely audible: "So you’re recruiting strangers now? Or just building your kingdom without me?"

Vivian let out a breath.

Marissa looked at her. “You know, if you didn’t want him to get away, maybe you shouldn’t have left.”

Vivian turned her head. Slowly.

Marissa smiled. Bright. Easy. Cruel.

Then she walked away.