The night inside the imperial palace was unbearably quiet.
Even the wind seemed afraid to disturb the stillness surrounding the Empress's chamber.
White mourning lanterns flickered in the corridors outside, casting trembling shadows along the walls.
Servants moved like ghosts, speaking only in whispers.
Everyone knew.
Everyone believed the same thing.
The Empress was dying.
Inside the chamber, the air was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs and burning incense.
The Empress lay motionless on the bed.
Her skin was pale.
Her lips had lost all color.
Each breath she took was faint, almost invisible.
Beside her sat the Emperor.
He had not left the room for five days.
His robes were wrinkled.
Dark shadows circled his eyes.
His hand never released hers.
It was the only warmth she still had.
Around the room sat those who loved her.
Princess Zhi knelt beside the bed, clutching prayer beads.
