The Dowager Empress had always believed that she was untouchable.
Not by blade.
Not by poison.
Not by rumor.
For decades she had ruled the inner palace with an iron hand wrapped in silk. Concubines bowed before her. Noble ladies feared her gaze. Even ministers measured their words carefully when speaking in her presence.
But that morning—
A whisper pierced her armor.
And it did not come from an enemy.
It came from the servants.
---
The Whisper That Slipped Through Walls
The Dowager sat upright in her chamber, jade bracelets clinking faintly as she lifted her tea. Her face was composed, unreadable. Only the faint crease between her brows betrayed her restless night.
Outside the carved wooden screen, two maids were sweeping the corridor.
Their voices were low.
Too low.
But not low enough.
"They say Her Majesty jumped because the Dowager tortured her…"
"Shh! Don't say that aloud!"
