The following night, Sri sat cross-legged in her training pavilion. A hanging lantern swayed gently in the night breeze, casting shifting shadows over the large map spread before her.
Ink markings in deep red stretched across the tanned hide: trade routes, guard posts, and the names of merchant groups that had recently entered Medang from the northeast.
Scattered around her were guard shift schedules, ship inventories, and freshly delivered reports from the rear scouts.
"This group is too clean," she murmured, her finger tapping the names—names even Raka hadn't heard before.
Names like shadows: unrecognized, untraceable… but moving far too smoothly to be called coincidence.
Across from her stood Raka, Tumenggung Madya, unrolling another scroll. His brows furrowed as he scanned the text.
"No prior transactions. Not even in maritime logs. Yet they carry official seals from the Yi Dynasty."
Sri lifted her gaze. It didn't waver.
"Official doesn't mean innocent," she said flatly. "We're not talking about spices. We're talking about blood wrapped in gift boxes."
Raka exhaled quietly, then looked down.
"If this is part of the Yi Dynasty's underground movement, then we're facing more than simple infiltration.
They know our weak points.
And they entered without so much as brushing a single tripwire."
Sri gave a slight nod, then rose to her feet.
Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, still partly tied in her combat braid—disciplined, yet never ornamental.
"Then I'll see for myself."
"Senapati…" Raka started to protest, but fell silent.
He knew—once Sri said "I'll see for myself," no one in the palace could stop her.
"Relax, Raka. I'm not sounding any alarms.
I just want to know who's bold enough to dance with shadows… on my own soil."
Hours later…
Sri moved swiftly and silently through the port's backstreets.
The night had aged.
The air carried faint hints of saltwater and resin from the old warehouses slumped along the dockside.
She took the rear path—no guards, no uniform.
But before she could go too far—
"Out sneaking alone at this hour?
How… heroic."
The voice came from her left—calm, but far too amused for the setting.
She turned sharply.
Chen stood beneath a lantern hung from a bamboo post.
He wore a dark, light-weight outfit, his hair tied loosely like always, and his smile…
That familiar smile of a man who either knew no fear—or knew too much and chose to forget.
"Is stalking me a Yi Dynasty tradition?" Sri asked, not fully turning.
Her pace didn't slow, but her eyes measured him like a blade.
"Not stalking," Chen said, hand over heart as if taking an oath.
"Call it… charming personal security."
Sri let out a short huff, somewhere between a scoff and a repressed laugh.
"I don't need protection.
I can kill five men with a wooden spoon."
Chen raised an eyebrow—genuinely impressed, or at least pretending to be.
"What worries me isn't your ability to kill.
It's this—who's going to interpret my nightmares if you don't come back?"
She glanced at him. "You have nightmares often?"
"No.
But who knows…
Maybe tonight is the exception."
There were no more verbal exchanges after that.
Sri kept walking, and Chen followed silently—like a shadow that knew its place, or an ally who understood his limits.
The harbor was quiet.
A breeze rolled in gently from the sea, carrying with it the scent of salt, damp wood, and something harder to name—tension.
At the far end of the dock, an old warehouse stood sealed shut. Too tightly.
Even the dock guards seemed to avoid it, though officially it was just a temporary storage depot.
Sri slipped behind a column of shadow and gave a subtle hand signal.
Chen nodded and moved to the right, climbing up a stack of crates like he already knew the rhythm of the place.
"Two armed men, far-right corner," he whispered from above.
"And one of them… is wearing a ring from the Yi royal family."
Sri tensed.
She looked up at Chen as he quietly descended to stand beside her.
"You recognize that emblem?"
Chen raised an eyebrow.
"I helped design it. My fourth brother had a taste for excessive symbolism.
He thought dragons and clouds would make him look divine.
But really, it looks like a fish market stamp."
Sri almost laughed.
But didn't.
Her eyes locked onto a large crate near the north wall. Its wooden latch sat slightly ajar, deliberately so.
She moved—fast, soundless.
Chen followed, no command necessary.
Inside the crate:
Not merchandise.
Not spices.
Not porcelain.
But a small wooden box wrapped in red silk.
Sri opened it cautiously.
Inside:
A rolled hide.
A map of Medang Palace.
Blueprints for emergency evacuation routes.
Red Xs marking weak guard posts.
And one official's name, written in deep crimson ink.
Blood. Or ink. But the message was clear—this wasn't some misplaced document.
It was a plan.
Sri stared at the scroll in silence, fingers tightening at the edges.
Then, slowly, she turned to Chen.
"You know what this means, don't you?"
Chen didn't answer right away.
His expression shifted.
For the first time that night, his smile faded.
"My brothers… they're trying to kill me," he said quietly.
"And they've chosen this land to be the final pyre."
Outside, the sound of waves echoed.
As if Medang itself was holding its breath.
Sri closed her eyes for a moment, then folded the scroll and tucked it inside her inner coat.
Chen finally spoke again, his voice light once more.
"But don't worry, Senapati Anom. You don't have to sneak around alone anymore.
I'll be your intelligence partner. Free of charge. Comes with a bonus—imported charm."
Sri shot him a sideways glance.
"I could slit your throat with a bamboo tag."
Chen gave a faint smile.
"Ah. So that's your version of affection today."
And just like that…
They started working together.
Not out of trust.
But because they knew:
The enemy was too big to face alone.
And strangely…
Standing side by side, they both felt a little calmer.
The sun had yet to rise when Sri and Chen returned to the rear courtyard of the pavilion.
The sky was still dark, but the smell of morning was beginning to replace the scent of night.
Inside the room, Raka was waiting.
Arms crossed, gaze locked directly on Chen—who looked far too relaxed for the situation.
"So," Raka said flatly, "is this part of your new night routine, Sri?
Bringing home Yi Dynasty nobles without official reports?"
Sri raised an eyebrow.
She untied her outer robe and laid the rolled-up map on the table.
"I didn't bring him back. He followed on his own. And frankly, more useful than half your gate officers."
Chen smiled and offered a mock bow toward Raka.
"Tumenggung, good morning. A pleasure to finally be included in an adult conversation."
"If you were actually an adult," Raka muttered,
"you'd know what it means to breach confidential investigation protocols."
Sri cut them both off with a flick of her hand.
"That's enough. Look at this."
She unrolled the scroll across the wooden table.
Raka's eyes scanned the map—and his expression shifted.
It took a veteran like him only seconds to grasp the depth of threat hidden in the diagram.
He gripped the table's edge tightly.
"This… this came from the inside."
"Yes," Sri said quietly.
"Someone leaked extremely specific intel—palace escape routes, night guard rotations, backup water stores… things only an insider would know."
Chen stepped closer. This time, he wasn't smiling.
"And they used my fourth brother's name to mask it.
But I'm certain… he's not the mastermind.
Too shallow if this were only the Yi court's doing."
Raka turned to Chen.
"You're saying… this is a joint plot? Inside and out?"
Chen didn't answer right away.
He stared at the map like it was a sketch of a future graveyard.
Then finally murmured,
"This isn't a war between nations.
This is a… purge.
Someone wants the whole board to burn—so they can rebuild from the ashes."
A while later, as Sri and Chen exited the room—
"Why did you really come with me last night?" Sri asked suddenly, without looking at him.
Chen walked beside her, hands folded behind his back.
"Because I knew you wouldn't tell me anything unless I forced myself to be there."
"And now you feel important?"
"No," Chen replied calmly. "I feel… needed.
And that's far more satisfying."
Sri stopped, glanced at him sideways.
"Don't get too close, Chen. I'll make you a target."
Chen chuckled softly.
"Senapati… I'm the ninth heir to the Yi Dynasty.
My brothers have been trying to kill me since I was seven—just because I was better looking than them."
He looked at her, and his gaze softened.
"So… if you think standing beside you is more dangerous than that—
then you're giving me far too much credit."
Sri didn't respond.
But her eyes shifted slowly toward the distant forest.
Beyond that stillness, she knew: the next battle wouldn't be out in the open.
It would happen within the palace walls.
And now… she could no longer walk alone.
Not because she lacked the strength—
But because her enemies no longer wore armor…
They wore the smiles she knew by name.