The atmosphere on the set of The Empress’s Shadow was brittle, like thin ice over a deep, dark lake. Aria sat atop the ornate mahogany throne, her heavy black-and-gold silks cascading around her. In the monitor’s glow, she looked like a sovereign of shadows, her erald eyes sharpened by Granny Shen’s kohl into two cutting blades of light.
She didn’t miss the way Director Spielberg wiped a bead of sweat from his temple as he looked at the handwritten addition in the script’s margin.
"Miss Vale," the Director began, his voice wavering as he approached the throne. "We’ve decided to add a bit more ’texture’ to this scene. To emphasize the Saintess’s internal struggle, we want her to deliver a blow to the Consort. A single, decisive slap to assert her purity over your... decadence."
Aria didn’t speak imdiately. She let the silence stretch, the weight of it pressing down on the Director until his shoulders hunched. In the shadows of the studio, she saw Bella adjust her white veil, the smirk on her face growing more prominent.
"A slap," Aria finally repeated, her voice a cool, lodic chi. "How very... traditional. I assu this was Bella’s suggestion?"
"It was a creative collaboration!" Bella chid in, stepping into the light. She looked every bit the ethereal Saintess, but the malice in her eyes was unmistakable. "Sister, I just felt the scene was too static. The audience needs to see the Saintess finally stand up for herself."
Aria looked past her to the executive chairs. Damien was sitting there, his legs crossed, his golden eyes fixed on the Director. He hadn’t said a word, but the cold aura radiating from him was making the nearby lighting technicians move in slow motion.
Aria stood up, her robes hissing against the wooden platform. She walked down the steps until she was eye-to-eye with the Director.
"I don’t mind," Aria said, a dangerous tilt to her lips. "If the scene requires a physical confrontation, I am a professional. However... if we’re doing this, let’s do it properly. No cara tricks. No ’acting’ the hit. If the Saintess is going to strike the Consort, it must be real. One take. Maximum impact."
The Director blinked. "Real? Miss Vale, your face..."
"I’ll take responsibility," Aria interrupted.
Bella’s heart leaped. ’Is she stupid?’ Bella had been practicing her swing in the trailer all morning. If Aria was giving her permission to make it real, she would make sure the "Scarlet Queen" left the set with a permanent mark.
"Positions!" the Director shouted.
Aria returned to the throne, assuming the posture of Consort Li. Bella took her place at the foot of the dais, kneeling in her white silks.
"Action!"
The scene began. Bella’s voice was a soft, trembling lody as she pleaded with the Consort for the lives of the village children.
"Your heart is made of stone, Consort!" Bella sobbed, the tears flowing on cue. "How can you be so cruel to those who have nothing?"
Aria leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her gaze bored. "Cruelty is a luxury for those who have power, little girl. You speak of hearts... but all I see is a beggar trying to trade her tears for a throne."
She reached out, her fingers brushing the ruby pins in her hair—a subtle movent that no one noticed. Under the wide sleeves of her costu, a slender silver needle was pald, held between her thumb and forefinger.
Bella stood up, her face contorting with a "holy" rage. "Then I shall provide the wake-up call you so clearly desire!"
Bella lunged forward. She swung her right arm with everything she had, her palm aiming directly for Aria’s left cheek. To the crew, it looked like a desperate, righteous strike.
But Aria was faster.
As Bella’s hand ca within inches of her face, Aria’s hand moved in a blur. The silver needle, invisible to the caras, pricked a specific point on Bella’s inner wrist—the Lingdao point. It was a fraction of a second. A tiny, painless sting.
Instantly, Bella’s arm lost its montum. Her muscles misfired, her wrist going limp just as it made contact. Instead of a resounding slap, Bella’s hand rely brushed against Aria’s cheek like a wet rag. The lack of resistance caused Bella to lose her balance. She stumbled awkwardly, her shoulder colliding with the arm of the throne.
Thud.
Bella collapsed back onto the floor, looking less like a Saintess and more like a drunkard. Aria didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch. She simply tilted her head, looking down at her sister.
"Was that it?" Aria asked, her voice echoing in the dead-silent studio. "You call that a slap? It felt more like a fly landed on my face."
"Cut!" the Director yelled, his voice sounding confused. "Bella? What happened? The energy was there, but the execution... it was clumsy."
Bella sat on the floor, clutching her wrist. Her hand felt numb, as if it had fallen asleep. She looked up at Aria, her eyes wide with confusion. She knew she had swung with her full strength.
"I... I tripped," Bella stamred, her face turning a humiliated red.
"Tripped?" Aria stood up, walking down the steps. She leaned down, her voice a low whisper. "You really are a talentless amateur, aren’t you? You can’t even hit a stationary target. How embarrassing."
Aria looked up at the Director. "We’re wasting ti. Perhaps we should move on to the Consort’s monologue."
"No," a cold voice interrupted.
Damien stood up from his chair. He walked onto the set, stopping beside Aria. He reached out, his gloved hand tilting Aria’s face to inspect her cheek.
"My investnt doesn’t include watching an amateur fail at basic coordination," Damien said to the Director, his golden eyes fixed on Bella. "One attempt was the deal. Bella Vale, you’ve wasted five minutes of my ti. That’s worth more than your entire contract."
Bella shrunk back, her bottom lip trembling.
"Aria," Damien murmured. "I’m bored. Are you finished with this play?"
Aria smiled, her erald eyes dancing with malicious joy. She tucked the silver needle back into her hair. "Just getting started, Darling."
As the crew scrambled to review the tape, Aria noticed Ken approaching Damien from the sidelines, looking focused.
"Sir," Ken said, keeping his voice low but audible to Aria. "A guest just arrived at the studio gates with a security clearance from the Board. It’s Lady Elena Sterling. She’s demanding to speak with the Director about ’restoring the integrity’ of the casting. And she didn’t co alone."
Aria’s eyes narrowed. "Who did she bring, Ken?"
"The actress who was originally cast as Consort Li before the acquisition," Ken replied. "Apparently, they have a signed side-contract that predates your engagent."
Aria looked at the Director, who looked like he wanted to vanish into the floorboards. The snakes were finally coming out of the grass.
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