Su Qingyue woke up from the cold. Before her eyes were a drafty wooden window, moldy bedding, and a faint smell of mildew. She struggled to sit up, her mind feeling like a tangled mess. No, two tangled messes. One belonged to the modern world: she was Su Qingyue, a chemical engineering PhD who had stayed up late working on biodegradable materials when her lab exploded and everything went black. The other belonged to ancient times: she was Su Qingyue, the principal consort of Prince Jing of the Great Zhou Dynasty, a concubine-born daughter of the prime minister's household. She had been married into the prince's residence for three years without winning his favor. Three days ago, the prince's secondary consort, Liu Ruyan, had accused her of pushing someone into the water, and Prince Xiao Jingyan had thrown her into this cold courtyard in a fit of rage.
"Princess Consort, you're finally awake!" A petite maid rushed to the bedside, her eyes red from crying. "The secondary consort's people have cut off the charcoal again. They say you don't deserve silver-frost charcoal while you're confined. I went to beg the steward, but he said the prince ordered it, and no one dares disobey."
Su Qingyue closed her eyes. The original owner's memories told her that the maid was called Qinghe, the only one who had followed her into the cold courtyard. As for that secondary consort, Liu Ruyan, she was currently staying in a warm chamber, sipping bird's nest soup and waiting to see Su Qingyue freeze to death.
"Qinghe," she said, her voice hoarse, "do we have soap pods and plant ash in the courtyard, and any lard the kitchen doesn't want?" Qinghe froze. "We do... but what does Your Highness want with those?" Su Qingyue threw off the covers and got out of bed. Her feet touched the icy floor tiles, yet she smiled. "I'll make something and sell it for money." Qinghe thought she had gone mad.
Su Qingyue didn't explain.
