The smell of dried herbs follows her everywhere: licorice root, mugwort, and something bitter you'd rather not ask about. She grew up in the pleasure district, raised by a gentle, disgraced physician. She learned the names of poisons before she learned to braid her hair, and she tested every one of them on her own arm.

Then she was kidnapped and sold into the Rear Palace as a lowly maid. She meant to keep her head down, count the days, and leave. But one anonymous warning about the poison killing the imperial infants changed that. Now a too-beautiful eunuch with a too-sweet smile keeps finding reasons to call for her, and her life has become a string of mysteries, murders, and quiet scandals.

She is small and plain, with freckles she paints on herself. People overlook her, which suits her fine. She doesn't care for power, romance, or politics. She cares about the truth, and above all about the next rare mushroom she might get to taste.