A week had passed since the confrontation, and the palace had seemingly returned to its usual rhythm. The Grand Empress, ever full of mischief and mirth, brought warmth wherever she went. Her laughter echoed through the marbled halls like a summer breeze, lifting even Lola's spirits when they threatened to crumble.
Yet despite the outward calm, Lola's heart was far from settled.
The Emperor had not come to see her, not once. No letters. No chance meetings. Not even a distant glance in the garden.
"You keep staring at the corridor, my dear. I dare say the walls won't suddenly transform into your beloved Xander," the Grand Empress teased one afternoon, taking a sip of tea with that ever-knowing glint in her eye.
Lola blinked, caught in the act. "I was just… distracted, Grandmama."
"Hm." The old woman leaned closer. "Don't trouble yourself over him. He's a good man, but he can be a spectacular fool when he sets his mind to it. He'll come around."
Lola managed a chuckle, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
She poured herself into palace charity work and embroidery circles, trying to make her remaining time worthwhile. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. Whispers filled the corridors like shadows, and when Lady Beatrix confirmed it, Lola felt her stomach knot.
"The Empress Dowager is arriving today."
It was not just a visit. It was a reckoning.
Just because the Grand Empress had accepted her didn't mean the Empress Dowager would. In fact, Lola suspected the very opposite.
She followed Silas down the front steps of the palace, heart thudding behind her ribs like a war drum. The courtyard was quiet, the tension in the air so thick it could be sliced with a blade.
At the foot of the grand stairway stood Emperor Xander himself, waiting solemnly for his mother's arrival.
Lola's breath caught. She hadn't expected the sight of him to hurt this much. He looked regal and composed, yet distant. So very far away from the man who once whispered against her skin in the quiet hours of dawn.
She longed to meet his eyes, to call his name softly, to remind him she was still here. But he never looked her way.
The carriage rolled to a stop, gilded and foreboding, as if it carried not just a noblewoman, but a storm.
Lola straightened her shoulders, folding her gloved hands in front of her gown as the footman opened the door.
The Empress Dowager descended with grace sharp as glass. Her gown shimmered like a blade in the sun, and her posture spoke of command and cold steel. Lola dipped into a respectful curtsy.
"Your Imperial Majesty," she said softly, hoping for civility.
But the Empress Dowager didn't spare her a glance. She swept past as though Lola were no more than a shadow on the cobblestones.
"Your Majesty," she said curtly to her son. "I'd like to see you. Now."
Xander hesitated, just a breath, and then followed her inside. Only then did he glance back, one flicker of his gaze toward Lola.
And it was enough to shatter the dam she'd built inside her.
She stood there, frozen in the wake of silence, with a hundred emotions warring behind her eyes and not a single one she could speak aloud.