Dawn arrived beneath a veil of pale mist, the palace gardens glistening with dew that clung to marble statues like unspoken secrets. Celestia stood at the tall window of her chambers, already dressed, her expression composed enough to deceive even the most perceptive courtier. Today, she would play the role she had chosen: the dutiful daughter, the sheltered princess, the unaware heir drifting calmly while unseen currents surged below.
By midmorning, the rumors began.
They were faint at first, barely whispers carried by servants exchanging glances too long, or junior nobles leaning closer during tea. A suggestion here. A question there. Why had the princess been visiting the Emperor's chambers so frequently? Why were certain physicians suddenly reassigned? Why had sealed orders bearing the imperial crest been issued without council approval?
Celestia heard every one of them.
