Chapter 7 · Survival Menu - Chapter 7: Midnight. No Knives.

He's in the pantry again.

I smell him before I see him—ink, cedar, something faintly metallic that shouldn't be on someone who doesn't work with cleavers. The lamp on the prep table's already lit. Low flame. He's sitting on the counter like he owns it, legs swinging, one hand resting on a stack of dried kelp that cost more than my entire year's wages.

Yan Xiao. Third prince. The one who keeps showing up where he shouldn't.

I freeze in the doorway. My fingers curl around the paring knife I'd tucked into my sleeve. Not much of a weapon, but it's sharp and I know where throats are.

He sees me. Doesn't move. Just tilts his head like I'm a stray dog that wandered in and he's trying to decide if I bite.

"You're the mute one," he says. Not a question. His voice is quiet, but it carries. "The one who made the emperor smile."

I don't answer. Obviously.

He hops off the counter. I take a step back. He notices. Stops.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he says. Then he pulls something from inside his robe. A book. Small, wrapped in oilcloth.