That same night, the Queen Dowager received the Chancellor in her private chamber.
The doors were closed, the attendants dismissed, and only the quiet glow of candlelight remained in the room. The Dowager poured tea for both of them with slow movements, her hands steady as the dark liquid filled two porcelain cups.
"It is done?" the Chancellor asked.
"It is done," the Dowager replied. She slid one of the cups toward him across the table. "Lady Naram has been given her task."
The Chancellor accepted the tea but did not drink it immediately.
"You placed a great deal of trust in a woman who has already failed you."
The Dowager's lips curved into a faint, cold smile. "I did not place trust in her. I placed a blade in her hand and fear in her heart. Fear is far more reliable than loyalty."
The Chancellor grunted, then took a slow sip. "And your son?"
