He heard the door open, but Sen remained standing at the window. He’d watched the sky darken over several hours. The clouds from earlier in the day had persisted. So, there wasn’t a star to be seen. It gave the sky an ominous look, like the heavens had been swallowed by some all-consuming void and only, by chance, had left this one world behind. Sen knew that this melancholy wasn’t just about the executions earlier. Those had just been the last thing in a long line of things that had left him feeling uneasy or out of place. He knew that it was something he’d need to get used to, but there were still a couple of days left before the one-month deadline he’d given. He planned to use those days for something that did not involve nobles, armies, or executions.

“Lord Lu,” said General Mo, a bit of uncertainty in his voice. “You wished to see us?”

Sen finally turned away from the window to look at the General and Jing. They were both giving him wary looks. He didn’t know why. Sen tried to think of a reason why either of them might be nervous about something and couldn’t come up with one. The paranoia in him wanted to suggest that they were plotting something. He mentally slapped that thought away, refusing to indulge it for even a second. Some paranoia was practical, even healthy, when people genuinely were plotting against you. He refused to allow unfettered paranoia to turn him against people he knew were his allies.

“I did,” said Sen. “General Mo, are the preparations to march going to be completed on time?”

“They are,” said the general. “At least, as much as an army can prepare for doing something it’s never done before.”

“Good. In that case, give the soldiers a day or two off to visit with family and relax. I’m extending the deadline by a few days.”

Jing piped up then and said, “That’s kind of you, Lord Lu, but can I ask why?”

“I’ll be leaving for a few days,” said Sen. “Once this march begins, it might be years before I can come back. Even if we cycle some of the soldiers back, the officers and I will have to stay with the main army. Before I do that to myself or them, I intend to go home and see my daughter. I want everyone else to have the same opportunity if possible.”

General Mo nodded his approval of the idea, but Jing frowned. He’d no doubt puzzled out the other reason why Sen was leaving now.

“It’s a test,” said Jing.

“Yes,” said Sen.

“You want to see if you missed anyone who was ready to do something monumentally stupid. If you leave, they might see it as an opportunity and act.”

“That’s part of it.”

“Oh,” said Jing, shaking his head. “It’s a test for me, as well.”

Sen kept his expression neutral for several long, grueling moments before he snorted.

“No. I’m not worried about you. It’s a test for everyone else. To see if they’ll treat you as your new station requires.”

“I see,” said Jing. “It makes a kind of sense.”

“I know the real test will come after the army marches. Still, it never hurts to test the waters. Get a feel for what people might do. Mostly, though, this is for me. A happy memory I can take with me during the war to help keep me sane.”

“Something that I think we would all appreciate,” observed General Mo. “Nascent soul cultivators are terrifying enough. I have no interest in finding out what an insane one would be like.”

“Take it from someone who’s met an insane nascent soul cultivator. You’re absolutely right. That’s an experience best avoided by people who want long, healthy lives.”

“When will you leave?” asked General Mo.

“In the morning. After I announce that Jing will be serving as the governor here.”

“Will there be some manner of ceremony?” asked Jing.

“No,” said Sen. “I’ve had enough formal events lately. Whoever shows up at court in the morning will get to see it. Everyone else will hear about it from the messengers we’ll send out into the capital. And by we, I naturally mean you, Governor.”

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“I’m going to miss having someone else in charge,” said Jing.

“I’m not going to miss any of this,” retorted Sen.

“No?” asked General Mo.

“Not even a little. I’m not looking forward to constant warfare, but at least I understand fighting. I don’t understand politics.”

“That’s the thing about being a tyrant, Sen. You don’t need to understand politics. At the end of the day, you decide what’s legal and illegal. Hells, you’re the final arbiter over what’s moral and immoral in your domain.”

Sen shuddered and said, “Only a madman wants that kind of responsibility.”

“True,” said Mo.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Sen waved a hand.

“You should go home. I don’t need you to stay for my benefit.”

The two men bid him a hasty farewell and left the room. Sen went back to the window and stared out at nothing for a few minutes. Rolling his eyes, he spoke.

“Watching me stand around and do nothing for hours on end cannot possibly be that interesting,” he told the seemingly empty room.

A scowling Misty Peak appeared in a corner.

“You can still sense me?” she demanded.

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea how much time I put into improving this illusion?”

“From how surly you are right now? I’m going to venture that it was a lot of time.”

“It was a lot of time,” she snapped as though he hadn’t just said that exact thing.

“If it makes you feel better, most cultivators wouldn’t be able to sense you through it.”

“It does not.”

“Is there some particular reason that you’re so invested in making it so that I can’t sense you through your illusions?” asked Sen as a small smirk appeared on his face. “One might think you were planning on assassinating me one day.”

“Like I even could assassinate you. Setting aside that it’d probably get my entire race killed by one of several vengeance-minded old monsters, I’m not sure what could kill you at this point.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” said Sen before obviously changing the subject. “Have you managed to convince Lo Meifeng that you and your people can be trusted, yet?”

A deeper scowl marred the fox-woman’s face.

“No. At this point, I’m not sure that there is a way I can convince her,” said before giving Sen a suspicious look. “Why?”

Sen shrugged and said, “She sees you as the problem. She thinks that if you ever stop being infatuated with me, that you might do something, oh, let’s call it inadvisable.”

The fox-woman fell silent, and he could see her reflection frowning. He wondered if she was actually scowling and frowning or just projecting those images onto the glass. That was the thing with foxes, you just never knew if the reality you saw was reality in truth.

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Misty Peak.

“I was hoping that the two of you would find your own way to a solution, but we’ll be out of time soon. Also, I didn’t particularly care for the solution that she suggested.”

“And what solution was that?”

Sen turned from the window to look at her.

“She said that I should seduce you.”

Misty Peak froze in place. It was an unnatural quality to that stillness. The kind of thing you only saw in core cultivators, nascent soul cultivators, or, he guessed, spirit beasts of similar strength. He supposed it was a combination of superior physical control and losing the need to do things like breathe. When someone like that froze, they resembled a statue more than a living thing.

“What?” asked the fox-woman after a lengthy pause.

“Seduce you. Specifically, that I should take you to bed and make a habit of it. No doubt with the intention of blinding you with lust. After that, you’d be more inclined to make decisions that would benefit me and my goals, and therefore become a less dubious ally.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and asked, “And you rejected that idea?”

“Well, I didn’t outright reject it, but I made it pretty clear that I didn’t like it.”

“You should listen to your advisors more. She’s right. You should absolutely do that,” said the fox-woman with a wild light in her eyes.

It was Sen’s turn to say, “What?”

“I get what I want. She gets what she wants. As for you? Well, I don’t think anyone in the world knows what you want. But two out of three isn’t bad, right?”

Sen’s mind started to stumble in confusion. This had not gone at all the way he’d expected. He had imagined the fox-woman being indignant at the suggestion, at first. Then, he’d expected to help manufacture some plausible way for her to win enough of Lo Meifeng’s limited supply of trust so the women could work together. Misty Peak’s gleeful endorsement of the idea had never crossed his mind. But maybe it should have, he thought. Was this really an unpredictable outcome based on what I know of her personality? He thought that maybe it was a little more likely than he’d given the possibility credit for, but he still would have seen it as a very unlikely outcome. By the time he regained a little equilibrium, the nine-tailed fox was over by the door, cursing under her breath.

“Damn it. Is there no way to lock this door?”

“Listen—” Sen started, only to be cut off.

“We should get started right now,” enthused Misty Peak. “Help me find something to bar the door.”

“But—”

“Can you soundproof this room? Because, if you can, you should. This is probably going to get loud.”

“I—” Sen tried to interject, only to be cut off again.

“Why are your clothes still on?” she demanded, shedding her own robes so fast it seemed impossible.

The reasonable part of Sen was mostly certain he could still put a stop to this, but he wasn’t at all sure how that might change the behavior of all of the foxes. Another part of Sen was aggravated to discover that Lo Meifeng had been right. Now that the fox-woman was here, avidly approving the plan, and naked, most of his moral objections felt weak and distant. The rest of his mind was working hard to convince him that this was a great idea, that he should stop just staring, and that he should seal the door. Sen reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he tried to decide if he was actually going to go along with this.

“Yeah,” he said, waving a hand at the door and sealing it closed. “I can soundproof the room.”