MTLNOVEL Chapter 125: Morning Greetings
The Crown Prince's household had thirty women registered under his name.
Thirty daughters of noble blood. Thirty alliances made through silk and signature. Thirty well-trained, calculating ornaments sent here not for affection, but for leverage.
And this morning, not a single one of them had shown up in my courtyard for morning greetings.
Except Concubine Yun.
She knelt gracefully at my left, her sleeves folded over her hands. A breeze caught the hem of her robe, but she did not move. She did not shiver. She simply waited—like me.
I took the time to study her, to determine whether I wanted her on my side or not. And from what I have seen today, she was now officially one of mine.
"They're testing the threshold," she said, without looking up, her words ringing with truth.
I sipped my tea. "I honestly expected nothing less from them," I shrugged gracefully. "After all, I'm meeting 25 of them for the first time today."
She was quiet a moment before raising her head to look at me, "I doubt they expected you to actually enforce it."
"They should know better. I was given the seal and the key. This is no longer their court to control," I scoffed. Whether they were testing the waters or not, they should at least be smart enough to hide their intentions.
Her lips twitched in the faintest ghost of a smile. "Perhaps they believed you wouldn't know how to use them."
"Then they'll learn quickly," I sighed, wishing that I was drinking Yan Luo's tea. "Or they will wish they had."
-----
The first arrivals came at the tail end of the hour—long after the proper time had passed.
Not one bowed in apology.
They arrived in satin shoes and fresh perfume, with smiles too delicate to be sincere. They were not flustered, not breathless from rushing. They came like they had planned their delay—an ensemble performance choreographed by the capital's finest mothers and grandmothers.
I didn't rise. I didn't scold. I simply noted who dared to arrive late, and who did not come at all.
Lady Yuan arrived last, flanked by two handmaids, her robes lacquered with pearl thread, her fan moving just enough to suggest amusement. She stopped near the edge of the stone path, neither kneeling nor speaking.
More than half the women stood behind her in a shallow crescent—some pretending not to look my way. Others watching too closely.
It was well executed. Unified.
An attempt to remind me that I might hold the seal, but I did not hold their loyalty.
Good.
I wasn't interested in loyalty.
I was here for obedience. Those who could obey could be kept, those who couldn't would be discarded.
-----
When the last echo of their entrance had faded, I set my cup aside and finally stood.
"Morning greetings," I said, voice even, "are a ritual. They exist not for convenience, but for clarity. They remind the household of its structure. Of its order."
My eyes passed over them slowly. Some had the sense to lower their heads. Most did not.
"You are daughters of ministers and generals. I understand that. But in this household, your blood is not above my station."
I stepped forward. The stone felt cold beneath my shoes.
"I was given this household by imperial decree. I hold the seal. I manage the ledgers. I control the gates. You live, eat, and serve here under my name. If you find that difficult to accept, I invite you to return to your fathers and explain why they've lost face in court."
A girl in pale lavender—the Minister of Appointments' niece—offered the softest reply.
"My lady," she said, head bowed but voice sweet, "if we have given offense, it is surely out of misunderstanding, not intention. It was not clear if this morning's summons was meant as a formality… or a correction."
A masterstroke of ambiguity. Disrespect delivered with a smile.
I let it hang in the air.
"Then allow me to clarify," I said. "I have no interest in disciplining anyone. But I do believe some of you have confused tolerance with weakness."
I turned slightly.
"Shi Yaozu."
He stepped forward like fog drawn by a current.
"The women who did not bow—bring them forward."
The shift was immediate.
Eyes widened. Shoulders tensed. Still, not a single scream.
These women had been trained for this. They had seen their mothers locked behind silken walls and learned early how to smile while bleeding.
Yaozu's steps echoed once. Twice.
The girl in lavender flinched when his hand closed around her elbow, but she did not cry out. Another tried to pull away and was dropped to her knees. A third stood still as stone, letting herself be led forward like a courtesan on trial.
Lady Yuan did not move.
Of course not.
I let the tension simmer just long enough.
"You do not have to like me," I said. "You do not have to admire me. But you will remember who holds the household seal. And you will conduct yourselves accordingly."
No one answered.
Good.
They were learning.
"Those who came late today will kneel again tomorrow—on time."
I looked at the half circle of painted eyes and high collars.
"Those who fail to appear will be escorted from their rooms and presented here whether they are dressed or not. I recommend bathing early."
A few heads dipped, curtly. Others remained high.
Lady Yuan, unsurprisingly, offered a slight smile.
"I was taught that a wife who needs to remind others of her position has already lost it," she said lightly.
The entire courtyard held its breath.
I met her gaze. "I was taught that women who overstep died through unexplained sickness… or in childbirth."
Her smile twitched. "Such vivid imagery."
"I favor clarity."
"You favor control."
I tilted my head. "Are they all that different?"
A beat passed.
Then Lady Yuan offered the faintest curtsy.
Not a bow. Not obedience.
But not defiance either.
A draw.
That was fine. For now.
When the crowd had dispersed—each one released without dismissal, and made to stew in it—Yaozu stood quietly at my side.
"You didn't break them," he said.
"I didn't plan to."
He nodded. "You were softer than I expected."
"That wasn't soft."
I turned to look at the empty stone where Lady Yuan had stood.
"That was surgical."