The capital had returned to its usual rhythm.
Markets were lively again.
Tea houses buzzed with gossip.
Noble families resumed banquets, visits, and celebrations as if nothing unusual had ever happened.
And yet—
Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
—
Inside the palace, the Emperor stood by the window of his study, staring at the city beyond.
A week ago—
The entire palace had been shaken by the news of a young noble girl's "suicide."
Rumors had spread like wildfire.
Whispers filled every corridor.
Questions had been asked.
Doubts had formed.
—
But now?
Nothing.
—
No one spoke about it anymore.
Not the servants.
Not the nobles.
Not even the families.
—
As if—
It had never happened.
—
"…Impossible."
The Emperor murmured under his breath.
—
A week was not enough time for something like that to disappear.
Not in the capital.
Not among nobles.
—
And yet—
It had.
—
Before he could think further—
A palace guard rushed in.
"Your Majesty!"
—
