Palace
Lord Shifu
770
The palace was quiet at dusk, wrapped in the soft lull of evening routines. I slipped away through the servants’ gate, my feet bare against the packed dirt path. No one questioned me—why would they? A palace worker vanishes for an hour after shift change, and no one notices. That freedom, that invisibility, was my gift.
The path curved through thickets and faded into a clearing where the river curled like silver ribbon through the trees. I'd only found it three days ago, stumbling upon it by accident while chasing a lost linen sheet. Now, it was mine—a secret stretch of quiet water untouched by duty or hierarchy. I stepped in, shivering at the cold as it wrapped around my ankles, then up to my waist.
I let myself drift into the shallows, scrubbing away the day’s sweat and dust. The stars hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was already turning violet above me. I dunked my head under, letting the silence of the river hold me for a moment longer than I should have.
I rang the water out of my hair, as I did I suddenly heard footsteps. I froze. They were heavy, confident—not a servant's tread. I darted behind a tree rising out of the shallows, pressing my back to the bark.
The footsteps stopped. Then, I heard a splash. Peeking carefully around the trunk, my breath caught.
It was him. Shifu. The Lord of the palace. Tall, composed, always untouchable—here now, undoing his outer robe with a casual grace that made my mouth go dry. He stepped into the water, unaware, or perhaps uncaring, that someone was already here.
What should I do?
