The palace finally quieted after dinner.
Lanterns dimmed one by one, servants retreated into shadows, and the echoes of laughter from the dining hall slowly dissolved into the night air. Even the wind seemed gentler, as if it, too, was reluctant to disturb the fragile calm that had settled over the palace.
But sleep refused to come.
Empress Lian An lay on her bed, eyes open, staring at the embroidered canopy above her. The patterns—clouds, phoenix feathers, twisting vines—blurred together no matter how many times she blinked.
Her mind wouldn't slow down.
The dinner. Prince Liang's sudden change. Shin Gu's arrival. Princess Zhi's quiet, practiced indifference. The Dowager's satisfied smile.
Too many thoughts tangled together, tighter than any embroidery thread she had ever fought with.
With a soft sigh, Lian An pushed herself up.
