By the time we returned to the manor, the morning had already begun to bleed into afternoon.
My hair was damp from river mist. My dress smelled like pine and salt. And Shi Yaozu—quiet, constant—walked half a step behind me, like he always did when we weren't alone.
Shadow trotted at my side as if nothing had changed, as if the world weren't coming undone in slow motion. His breath fogged the cold air, his ears twitching every time someone so much as looked in our direction.
We entered the Palace since it was so late in the day through the servants' gate. Yaozu peeled off first, fading into the outer corridor without a word. He didn't need one. His presence lingered in the air behind me like smoke after a battle—familiar, grounding.
I made it exactly ten steps into the main corridor before the Empress intercepted me.
