When she was eight, she stole his osmanthus cake and beat him at chess.
He was the Regent, a cold and ruthless man of immense power, and he was twenty-three.
Everyone was afraid of him.
Everyone except her.
So she became the only student he ever had.
He taught her everything: reading, martial arts, military strategy, political intrigue, and how to conduct herself.
The one thing he never taught her was to fear him.
Eighteen years later, she became the first woman to serve as Grand Secretary in the dynasty.
After court each day, she still dropped by the palace to mooch a meal.
He still put on a stern face and said, “You again,” before telling the kitchen to make another plate of osmanthus cakes.
The finest teacher-student relationship in the world is this:
The more composed she is at court, the wilder she gets around him.
