By the time the morning sunlight reached the western courtyards, the palace had already turned the previous night's scandal into a memory polished smooth with gossip. Ministers who had trembled hours ago now laughed again. Courtiers, relieved to be alive and favored, busied themselves writing polite letters of apology that said everything except what they truly meant.
Inside the Empress's quarters, the air smelled faintly of incense and jasmine. The chaos of yesterday's gifts had been cleared. Boxes now sat in orderly stacks against the wall, sealed and labeled, as if they had never been born of shame. The kittens slept in a silk basket, tiny paws twitching, dreaming of ribbons.
Lian An sat near the window, reading through one of the minister's letters — though her expression suggested she was thinking of anything else.
