The silence in the funeral hall was so thick it felt physical. Siyan was the first to break the trance. She let out a sob of pure relief and sprinted toward the aisle, throwing her arms around Qingxue's waist.
"Sister! You're alive!" Siyan cried, her small frame shaking. She pulled back suddenly, her eyes darting over Qingxue's singed robes and the bandages on her arms. "You're hurt... what happened? He told us... he said you were stabbed. He said you were dead!"
The Council of Elders stood frozen. The ministers looked from the Queen to the charred body on the stretcher, then back to Liu Ma. Confusion turned into a low, buzzing murmur that filled the hall.
"If Her Majesty is standing here," an old official asked, his voice trembling with a mix of joy and suspicion, "then who is under that shroud? And why did Lord Liu tell us the Queen was murdered before his very eyes?"
