Morning light slipped gently into the Empress's courtyard, pale gold brushing the tiled roofs and dew-wet leaves. The air was calm, almost deceptively peaceful.
Inside her chamber, Empress Lian An sat cross-legged on the low couch, a thin blanket draped loosely over her lap. Two cats—round, sleek, and shamelessly spoiled—were fully occupying her.
"One at a time," she murmured, trying unsuccessfully to keep them from climbing her shoulders.
One cat pawed at her sleeve with great seriousness, while the other had claimed her lap as royal territory, purring so loudly it vibrated against her ribs.
"You two live better than ministers," she said dryly, scratching behind an ear.
Just as she leaned forward to scoop the second cat closer, hurried footsteps sounded outside.
The curtain rustled.
Her maid entered, breath slightly uneven, expression careful—too careful.
"Your Majesty," she said softly, bowing, "a message from His Majesty."
Lian An's hand stilled mid-scratch.
