The morning air in the Phoenix Garden was light and scented with magnolia.
After leaving the Dowager's pavilion, Ananya walked along the shaded path toward her own quarters.
For once, her heart was steady. The Dowager had not dismissed her harshly — she had even finished the tonic. That small victory lingered like warmth in her chest.
A gentle wind brushed her sleeves. She slowed, eyes half-lidded in quiet thought, when a faint sound broke through the still air—
A stifled gasp, followed by a soft cry.
Ananya turned sharply toward the willow grove beside the lotus pond.
There, near the curved stone railing, stood a young woman dressed in pale lilac silk — the wife of the Emperor's younger brother, seven months pregnant.
Her round belly strained against her sash as she gripped the railing, panting, color drained from her face.
"Princess Zhi!" Ananya called softly, hurrying over. "Why are you walking here alone? You should be resting."
The younger woman's head snapped up.
