The Chen residence was silent, but Lady Chen's heart wasn't.
The night stretched long and heavy, moonlight spilling like pale silk through the lattice windows. From the distance came faint temple bells and the lonely cry of a night bird. Inside her chamber, every shadow seemed to whisper.
Lady Chen sat alone at her dressing table, her face reflected in the polished bronze mirror — pale, beautiful, and weary. Her eyes were ringed faintly in red, though she'd powdered them carefully. Her hair fell in perfect coils, her robes of crimson gauze rustled softly as she breathed.
But her composure was paper-thin.
It had been only two days since her father's visit — since he'd shattered her tea cup and her pride with equal cruelty.
> "You are useless," he'd said.
"If you cannot control the Emperor, I will send your younger sister to replace you."
The words still burned in her ears.
