Chapter 187: Arrival of the Empress

Chapter 187: Chapter 187: Arrival of the Empress

She took a slow sip of wine.

"I’m in the second group. But I’m polite about it."

"Polite is new."

"I can be."

Ella’s blue eyes stayed on mine.

"You’re going to be approached by a lot of women tonight who are less polite. Some will offer contracts. Some will offer beds. A few will offer both in the same sentence and expect you to be grateful."

"And you? Which category?"

Ella’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

"I’m the category that doesn’t make offers at parties. I make appointments."

She set her wine glass on the nearest ledge.

"Tuesday. My office. Come alone, or don’t come. But if you don’t, I’ll find you anyway."

Behind me, the ballroom went quieter than it should have.

The silence that fell over the ballroom was so complete I could hear my own breathing.

Ella’s fingers touched the side of my jaw and turned my face gently to the left.

"Look who’s here."

The private elevator at the far end of the gallery opened.

The woman who stepped out was taller than me.

Long white hair fell in a clean sheet all the way to her knees.

The dress was a deep, deliberate red, cut to leave her collarbones bare in the same clean line Giselle favoured, but the proportions underneath it were almost unfair: fuller, sharper, the kind of body that made even Jenna’s presence feel like a milder version of the same idea.

Red eyes.

Solemn.

She walked like the floor had already agreed to belong to her.

Every person in the ballroom bowed.

I bowed with them.

There was no version of this evening where I stayed upright while the Empress of Sector 5 entered the room.

Draven came behind her, looking entirely too pleased with the world, a different woman on each arm.

He caught my eye for half a second and gave the smallest possible shrug, as if to say I told you it would be interesting.

Yelena’s gaze moved across the gallery once.

Giselle was already walking toward her.

They met in the centre of the open space, joined hands in a formal, public gesture, and one of the attending women offered the Empress a glass.

Yelena took a single sip.

The room exhaled.

Conversation resumed in a controlled wave as the highest-ranked guests began drifting toward her.

Ella’s smile returned, thin and satisfied.

"Well. Don’t forget. I will be waiting."

"Is your place located at the academy?"

"No. Sector 5. Try to come. If not, I’ll see you there anyway."

"Are you telling me you’d give special preference to a student?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on how you act."

Her fingers traced once along my chin, light, deliberate, then fell away.

"Now I have business to attend."

She left without waiting for an answer, already disappearing into the cluster of faculty and ranked officers that had begun forming near the Empress’s side of the room.

Shen slid back into the space she left as if he had been waiting for exactly that moment.

"Even Ella is interested in you," he said cheerfully.

"Guess my time has come to an end."

"Of course you know her too. Spill."

"Spill what?"

"Tell me about her."

"She’s exactly what she says she is. Researcher. Professor. Just a little too crazy when something catches her attention."

He took a slow drink of his wine.

"And you, my friend, have caught it."

I didn’t answer.

The fragment under my ribs was still tight from the Empress’s entrance.

I needed distance and something ordinary before the next person decided to put a hand on me.

The long serving tables along the side wall were the closest thing to ordinary the room offered.

I walked over, took a plate, and started loading it without ceremony: a thick cut of barbecue, rice, noodles, whatever was closest.

For some reason, my body had been running hotter and hungrier since the transformation percentage first moved.

The food smelled better than it had any right to.

Shen followed and took a plate of his own, mostly for the excuse to stay close.

"You aren’t going to see the Empress?" he asked.

"I will. Once the crowd thins."

"Brave. Or stupid. Hard to tell with you."

I was halfway through adding a second piece of meat when another woman stepped into the open space at my side and reached past me toward a small black dish.

"Try this."

She took a small spoon, scooped a portion of glossy seeds, and set them on the edge of my plate with neat precision.

"Tastes better at night."

I turned.

Blonde. Mid-thirties. Sharp cheekbones.

The same woman who had been watching me from Giselle’s circle earlier.

Sera.

"Thanks."

"Why are you alone here?"

Shen immediately opened his mouth.

"Excuse me, he’s not alone—"

Two other women materialised as if summoned, linked their arms through his, and physically steered him away from the table while he was still mid-protest.

"Wait—"

He shot me a look that was half apology, half you’re on your own, and then he was gone.

Sera watched them leave with mild interest, then turned her full attention back to me.

"Acquisition files are boring when the subject is standing in front of the food table looking like he might actually eat," she said.

"Most supports in this room are performing. You’re just hungry."

"It’s been a long few days."

"I’ve read the summary."

She picked up a small plate of her own but didn’t add anything to it.

"Sector 7. Hard-track performance that shouldn’t have been possible. Not gonna talk about your sexual trick at the entrance. That’s a lot of first impressions for one support."

"I’m popular."

"You’re exposed."

Sera’s voice stayed pleasant.

"There’s a difference. Popular gets you invitations. Exposed gets you requests that don’t sound like requests."

"You have a request?"

I glanced past her.

Giselle was still standing with her mother.

Yelena’s red eyes hadn’t looked in my direction even once, which somehow felt worse than being stared at.

Giselle’s gaze, however, had found me.

She tracked the exact distance between Sera and my shoulder and didn’t look away.

I didn’t either.

"You’re the one Shen warned me about," I said.

Sera’s eyebrows lifted a fraction.

"Did he? How disloyal. I’ll remember that."

She smiled.

"He’s not wrong. I file acquisition assessments for the Empress’s office when something unusual appears. You qualify. That doesn’t mean I’m here to drag you out of the room by the collar. It means I’m here to decide whether the report should recommend observation, containment, or controlled contact."

Something within my ass stirred.