The vast Hall of Clear Sound was still trembling with the weight of revelation. Incense smoke curled in thin threads, fading like the lies it had burned away. The maid's confession hung in the air, shattering the accusations that had dragged Consort Lian into judgment.
All eyes turned to the throne.
The Emperor rose slowly, his dark robes trailing like storm clouds. His voice rang clear, heavy with authority.
"The Queen Consort has stood before Heaven's trial. The mirror shines clean. The smoke rejected her, and it marked another. She is innocent."
His gaze swept the court, sharp as a drawn blade. "From this moment, let no tongue call her tainted. Her confiscated goods shall be returned at once. And hear me well—this court will not rest until the masked hand behind this deception is found and cut away."
The words fell like thunder. Ministers bent low, voices echoing: "Yes, Your Majesty."
---
Ananya stood in the center, her wet sleeve dripping faintly onto stone. The cold clung to her, yet her spine was straight, her gaze unwavering. For the first time since she entered the palace, she felt not hunted, but seen.
Behind her veil of silence, her companions stirred.
Wei Rong's grin split wide, fierce and triumphant. "Did you hear that? Innocent! Before the whole cursed court!"
Fen Yu twirled with joy, her tears sparkling. "You did it, Ananya! Even Heaven stood at your side!"
Li Shen's voice was quiet, warm. "Not Heaven, not chance. It was her dignity that carried her. That is what they cannot bury."
Ananya's lips curved faintly — the barest hint of a smile.
---
Then movement broke the hall. Duke Lian, who had stood silent until now, stepped forward. His old knees bent, his hands pressed to the cold stone as he bowed low.
"Your Majesty. Mother of the Empire." His voice trembled, but each word struck like a hammer. "Today, my daughter was dragged into this hall as if she were a criminal. Before the eyes of the Empire, her honor was smeared with lies. She has proven her innocence, yet words once spoken stain more deeply than blood. For the sake of fairness, for the dignity of this throne itself—this old subject begs that my daughter be granted an apology."
Gasps exploded through the chamber.
"An apology?"
"From the throne itself?"
"Bold… reckless even."
Some ministers frowned, whispering among themselves. "The Duke oversteps."
But others murmured agreement. "He speaks truth. Her innocence must not only be proven—it must be respected."
All eyes turned to the Emperor and the Dowager.
---
The Dowager's fan lowered, resting against her lap. Her eyes, cold as winter frost, lingered on Ananya's white figure in the smoke. For a long, heavy silence, she said nothing. Then, finally, her voice emerged — cool, measured, but lacking its usual edge.
"Heaven has spoken. The Queen Consort stands clean. Let that be her shield, brighter than apology. As for words spoken in haste—let them be forgotten in the light of truth."
A concession, subtle but unmistakable. The Dowager rarely softened her words — and this was as close as she would ever come to bowing.
---
The Emperor, however, did not remain still. His eyes turned to Ananya, lingering longer than duty required. His voice was deep, resonant, and carried to every corner.
"The Duke's words bear weight. The Queen Consort's name was dragged into mud unjustly. Though no court can wash away whispers entirely, let all present hear this: the throne recognizes her dignity. She stands not accused, but vindicated."
His gaze sharpened, sweeping the assembly. "Let any who dare speak otherwise know this: to slander her now is to defy Heaven's judgment and the will of the Emperor."
The chamber bowed low in unison. "Yes, Your Majesty!"
---
The Duke's shoulders shook with restrained sobs, his forehead pressing into the floor. "This subject… thanks Your Majesty. Thanks Heaven. Thanks the ancestors."
Lady Xiu wept openly, her handkerchief soaked, her eyes never leaving her daughter. Lian Hua clutched her sleeve, her young face glowing with relief and pride.
---
But not all shared joy.
Lady Chen's hand tightened until her lacquered nails pierced her skin. Her fan snapped with a soft crack, hidden beneath her sleeve. Her smile was brittle, painted on with perfect skill, but her heart raced.
So he shields her now… even speaks in her defense. I underestimated the girl.
Her lashes lowered, concealing the storm in her gaze. Very well. If Heaven protects her, then I will sharpen the knife that Heaven cannot see.
---
Ananya inhaled slowly, her chest tight but not with fear. For so long she had felt alone, a stranger in this body, an intruder in this palace. But today—her father's voice, her ghosts' loyalty, and even the Emperor's decree had formed a shield around her.
Her wet sleeve weighed heavy, but her spirit had never felt lighter.
In her white robe, she stood radiant — not as an accused, but as a woman vindicated before Heaven and Earth.