The sun had started to dip behind the golden roofs of the palace, painting the sky in soft shades of rose and amber. The ceremonies were finally over, the endless formalities done. Servants scurried around, clearing the banners and flower garlands from the courtyard, their laughter faint and tired.
Emperor Rong Zhen walked beside Lian An toward her chambers. For once, he was silent — not with coldness, but something heavier, thoughtful. The air between them carried a strange stillness.
When they reached the corridor leading to her residence, he stopped. The sunlight reflected off his crown and caught the sharp edges of his face.
"You've done well today," he said at last, his tone lower than usual. "But your legs haven't healed completely. Rest. Don't wander the palace too much alone."
Lian An tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with mischief. "Is His Majesty worried for me?"
