The sun had already vanished behind the high vermilion walls of Duke Lian's estate, leaving behind streaks of rose and violet that faded into the hush of night.
Soft laughter floated from the garden where maids were lighting oil lamps, their warm glow spilling over the carved railings. The air smelled faintly of incense and blooming jasmine.
Inside her chamber, Empress Lian An sat by the window, chin propped on her palm, a half-finished embroidery frame before her.
The golden thread hung loose from the needle, forming a crooked phoenix tail — the image of a bird that looked more like a dying chicken than a royal emblem.
She frowned at it.
Then sighed.
The palace might have been peaceful, but her mind wasn't.
It had been three whole days since she last saw them — her ghostly trio of chaos. The once ever-present laughter, the teasing comments, the ghostly hands tugging her sleeves — all gone.
Silence.
It was almost suspiciously quiet.
