Night in the palace was never truly silent.
Even when lanterns dimmed and footsteps faded, the palace breathed—through stone, through shadow, through memories sealed beneath layers of history. Tonight, that breath was uneven.
The Empress and the Array
Long after the last patrol passed, Lian An rose from her bed.
She moved quietly, barefoot against the cold floor, her outer robe already prepared. The three ghosts hovered nearby, unusually silent.
"You're doing it again," Fen Yu whispered.
"I have to," Lian An replied softly. "Before someone else forces the palace to move first."
She slipped out through the hidden passage the monk had shown her. The way opened only for her now—stone yielding with a low hum, as if recognizing her presence.
Deep below, the ancient chamber waited.
The array did not flare when she stepped onto it this time.
It pulsed.
Slow. Steady.
Like a heart.
Lian An closed her eyes and sank to her knees, palms resting lightly against the engraved lines.
