Dragon's Fire Consort
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 6
The capital appeared on the horizon like a promise and a threat.
Xianyang sprawled across the landscape—massive walls, the palace complex rising above everything else, banners snapping in the wind. After weeks in the field, it should have felt like coming home.
Zhang Mei felt her shoulders tighten instead.
“Nervous?” Liang asked quietly. They rode at the head of the column, close enough to speak without being overheard.
“Cautious.” She studied the city gates, already seeing the crowd gathered to witness their return. “Battlefield enemies are straightforward. Court enemies hide behind smiles.”
“You’re learning.”
The gates opened. The crowd roared.
It was a spectacle. Citizens lined the streets, cheering the victorious army. Children waved silk banners. Officials in elaborate robes stood on platforms, observing with carefully neutral expressions. The whole city had turned out to witness Prince Liang’s triumph.
Zhang Mei scanned the crowd professionally, noting positions, exits, potential threats. Old habits.
At the palace entrance, the reception committee waited. Crown Prince Zhao stood at the center, resplendent in gold and crimson silk, his smile perfectly calibrated—warm enough to seem genuine, controlled enough to maintain dignity.
He was very good at this.
“Brother!” Zhao called out as they dismounted. “Victorious! Father will be pleased.”
“The campaign was successful,” Liang replied, his tone formal. “Minimal casualties. Border secured.”
“Yes, we received the reports. Quite impressive. Unconventional tactics, I hear.” Zhao’s gaze slid to Zhang Mei. “Your consort’s influence, no doubt?”
“Captain Zhang’s strategic expertise proved valuable,” Liang said carefully.
“Captain?” Zhao’s eyebrow rose. “How unusual. A woman commanding soldiers.”
“Advising,” Zhang Mei corrected. “Prince Liang commands.”
“Of course.” Zhao’s smile never wavered. “Still, Father will want a full accounting. The Emperor has called for an audience this afternoon. Both of you.”
Not an invitation. A summons.
The throne room was exactly as Zhang Mei remembered from the consort ceremony—vast, intimidating, designed to make anyone entering feel insignificant. Officials lined the walls in ranked order. Guards stood motionless in their armor. And on the Dragon Throne, Emperor Qin Shi Huang waited.
He looked older than she remembered. Or maybe just more tired. The weight of uniting seven warring states, of building an empire, showed in the lines around his eyes.
But his gaze was still sharp as a blade.
Zhang Mei and Liang knelt. She’d practiced the court protocols obsessively before they left—better to be overly formal than accidentally commit a breach of etiquette that could be used against them.
“Rise,” the Emperor commanded.
They stood.
“Prince Liang. You return victorious. Explain.”
Liang gave a concise military report—enemy numbers, terrain, tactics employed, casualties sustained, result achieved. Professional, factual, no embellishment.
The Emperor listened without interruption. When Liang finished, silence stretched across the throne room.
“Fifty casualties,” the Emperor said finally. “Against seven hundred Xiongnu riders. Previous campaigns against similar forces cost us three, four hundred men.”
“The tactics were effective, Your Majesty.”
“These tactics. Your reports credit your consort’s ... strategic innovations.” The Emperor’s attention shifted to Zhang Mei like a physical weight. “Explain these innovations.”
Zhang Mei’s mouth went dry. This was the moment—explain too much, and she risked exposing herself as impossibly foreign. Explain too little, and the Emperor would suspect she was hiding something dangerous.
“Your Majesty, the Xiongnu fight differently than Chinese armies. They use mobility and archery rather than formation and close combat. Traditional tactics assume an enemy that will meet us directly. When that assumption fails, we suffer.”
“And your solution?”
“Adapt to match their strengths while exploiting their weaknesses. Mobile infantry instead of static formations. Elevated archer positions for crossfire. Cavalry strikes timed to disrupt their mobility advantage. Force them to fight our battle, not theirs.”
The Emperor studied her. “Where did you learn this?”
The question she’d been dreading.
“I’ve studied warfare extensively, Your Majesty. Different philosophies, different approaches. Some from texts, some from...” She hesitated. “From teachers who emphasized adaptability over tradition.”
It wasn’t a lie. Just not the whole truth.
The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “What teachers? What texts?”
“Foreign ones, Your Majesty. From far to the south.”
“We have reports from the southern kingdoms. None mention female military advisors.”
Shit.
“Perhaps,” Zhao interjected smoothly, “the Captain’s knowledge comes from sources outside our normal intelligence networks. The southern barbarian tribes have unusual customs. Women shamans, warrior priestesses. It’s not impossible she learned from such sources.”
He was offering her a cover story. The question was why.
Zhang Mei inclined her head. “I’ve traveled widely, Your Majesty. I’ve learned from many sources, some unconventional.”
The Emperor looked between her, Liang, and Zhao. Political calculation was visible on his face. “The results speak for themselves. Fifty casualties. Border secured. Xiongnu raiders scattered.” He leaned forward. “Can these tactics be replicated? Taught to other commanders?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Liang answered. “We’ve already begun training additional units. General Han is overseeing implementation across the northern garrison.”
“Good.” The Emperor sat back. “Prince Liang, you will command the spring campaign against the remaining Xiongnu strongholds. Expand the border. Secure our territory permanently. You will have five thousand men.”
A promotion. More responsibility, more resources.
Also more risk. More opportunity for failure.
“Your Majesty honors me,” Liang said, bowing.
“Don’t disappoint me.” The Emperor’s gaze shifted to Zhang Mei again. “Your consort will continue to advise. But remember, Captain Zhang—” He used her military title deliberately. “Innovation is valuable. But tradition is the foundation of empire. Don’t confuse the two.”
It was a warning. Don’t push too far. Don’t upset the established order too much.
“I understand, Your Majesty.”
“See that you do.” He waved his hand. “Dismissed.”
They walked in silence through the palace corridors until they reached a private garden. Only then did Liang speak.
“That went better than expected.”
“Did it?” Zhang Mei kept her voice low. “He’s suspicious. He knows I’m hiding something.”
“He’s always suspicious. That’s how he survived to unite China.” Liang plucked a lotus blossom from the pond, turned it over in his hands. “But he values results. You gave him results. That buys us time.”
“And your brother’s intervention?”
“Zhao is being clever. He helped you, which makes him look magnanimous. But now you’re in his debt, which gives him leverage.”
“I’m not in anyone’s debt.”
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