Dawn arrived laden with suspicious calm, as if the heavens had decided to cover the Empire with a mantle too perfect. The first rays bathed the golden roofs of the Celestial Lotus Palace, illuminating its towers and courtyards as if they were liquid fire. But beneath that radiance, no one smiled.
The Palace of Eternal Flames, usually brimming with life and ritual sounds, was that morning immersed in a state of oppressive stillness. The corridors, wide as rivers of white marble, seemed longer and heavier, as if each column supported not only the golden ceiling, but also a secret too great to be spoken.
The maidens walked in silence, carrying trays of tea and perfumed fabrics, but their steps, which used to be light, resonated dully, as if they feared awakening something that still slept within the shadows of the walls. They looked at each other warily, and when their gazes met, they quickly averted their eyes, as if the simple act of holding a glance could invoke misfortune.
