I Stole the Villain's Cat, and Now He Thinks I'm His Wife

The air in the East Palace was thick with the scent of ozone and drying ink. While the rest of the capital was buzzing with excitement for the Spring Purification Regatta, our pavilion had become a war room.

"It’s not just a boat," Yua whispered, spreading a piece of stained, damp parchment across the cedar table. "My sister had to crawl into the Imperial Mage’s disposal bin to find this. It’s the schematic for the lead barge, The Golden Crane."

I leaned over the table, my eyes scanning the drawing. It looked like a standard ceremonial vessel, but the lower hull was cross-hatched with lines of red ink that made my skin crawl just looking at them.

"Yuki?" I called out.

The cat-boy didn’t even bother transforming. He just trotted onto the table, sniffed the parchment, and let out a sharp, jagged hiss.

"Vile," Yuki growled telepathically. "It’s a resonance array. They aren’t just going to pull magic from Akira; they’re going to use the river’s natural flow to grind his core into dust. Once it starts, the barge becomes a literal whirlpool of spiritual energy. Anything within twenty yards that has a soul will be shredded."

"Which means no one can get close enough to help him once they trigger it," I realized, my heart sinking.

"Exactly," Yuki said, his ears flattening. "And look at the anchor points. They’ve tied the array to the barge’s steering rudder. If I try to flip the current like I did in the hall, the whole ship will explode. It’s a dead-man’s switch."

I looked up at Akira. He was standing by the window, staring out at the darkening gardens. He hadn’t said a word in twenty minutes. The silence coming from him was heavier than any shout.

"Akira," I said softly.

He didn’t turn around. "I have sent word to the Northern borders. If I do not return from the lake, the generals have orders to march. I will not leave you to face a dying Emperor alone."

"You are returning," I snapped, standing up and walking over to him. I grabbed his hand, squeezing his fingers until he finally looked at me. "We aren’t planning for your funeral, Akira. We’re planning a heist."

"Kitsune—"

"No," I cut him off. "Listen to me. The Emperor thinks he’s the only one who knows how to play with disposable things. He thinks the servants are furniture and the North is just a distant threat. But he’s forgotten that a boat is just wood and nails."

I turned back to the table, pointing at the schematic. "Yua, can your uncle get into the supply room where they keep the ceremonial oils?"

Yua nodded quickly. "He’s the Head Cook, My Lady. He has the keys to the entire storage wing."

"Good. Tell him I don’t need him to poison the Emperor. I need him to swap the sacred purification oil for highly flammable lamp oil. If we can’t flip the array, we’ll just burn the whole damn boat down before they can even start the ritual."

Akira’s eyes widened. "The river is wide, Kitsune. If the barge catches fire, the Imperial Mages will just use water spells."

"Not if Yuki is under the water messing with the leylines," I grinned, a cold, sharp feeling settling in my chest. "They’ll be too busy trying to keep the boat from sinking to focus on the extraction. That’s your window. You break the array, jump ship, and Yuki will guide you to the shore."

"And what about the East Palace?" Akira asked, his voice dropping to that low, frantic register. "The moment the fire starts, the Emperor will know the trap failed. He will send the Shadow Guard here to kill you."

"Let them come," I said, sliding my iron fan from my sash and snapping it open with a sharp clack. "I’ve spent three days turning this pavilion into a maze of tripwires and Pitted-salt traps. Rin and Yua know exactly where to hide. I’m not a target anymore, Akira. I’m the bait."

Akira stared at me, and for the first time, I saw the Warlord truly falter. He reached out, his hand trembling as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He looked like he wanted to fall to his knees and beg me to run. He looked like he wanted to scream the truth at me, whatever secret was still burning behind his lips.

But instead, he just leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine.

"Three days," he whispered.

"Two," I corrected. "The regatta is the day after tomorrow."

I didn’t know why he was so scared. I didn’t know why he looked at me like every breath I took was a miracle he didn’t deserve. But as I held him, I realized I didn’t need to know the secret to know the truth.

I wasn’t just a partner in a survival game anymore.

I was in love with a Demon Prince, and I would burn the entire capital to the ground to keep him.

[Lady Renge’s POV]

I sat in the darkness of the Western Pavilion, watching Ryu sleep. Even in his slumber, he looked terrified, his brow furrowed as he clutched his stained silk blankets.

He was a weak, pathetic excuse for a prince.

And he was the only thing I had left.

"The girl is preparing," a voice whispered from the shadows of the corner.

I didn’t turn around. "Is she?"

"She is recruiting the kitchen staff. She is stealing lamp oil. She intends to set the Imperial Barge on fire."

I let out a soft, cold laugh. "A typical peasant solution. Brutal, messy, and surprisingly effective."

"Shall I inform the Emperor?"

"No," I said, standing up and smoothing my black robes. I walked over to the window, looking out toward the East Palace. "The Emperor is a dying man clinging to a rotting dream. If the girl burns his boat, she does me a favor. Let them fight. Let the Demon Prince and the Rotting King tear each other apart."

I touched the cold jade of my ring, my eyes narrowing.

"I will be waiting in the tall grass," I murmured. "And when the fire dies down, I will be the one holding the crown for my son."

The White Lotus didn’t need to fight the war. It just needed to survive the winter.