The Empress Dowager smiled with quiet satisfaction, her chin lifting ever so slightly as she regarded her son.
"Very well," she said with cool finality, then offered a shallow bow. "I must take my leave."
Without waiting for dismissal, she turned on her heel and exited the chamber with her usual imperial grace, her gown whispering against marble floors. The heavy doors shut behind her with a gentle but resolute thud.
Inside, Xander exhaled deeply, his shoulders finally sagging under the weight of his own words. He returned to the window, but the garden below no longer offered solace. All he could see was Lola. Her smile, her trust, her eyes brimming with hope. And now, his betrayal. The guilt crept in, silent and consuming.
Outside the emperor's office, the Empress Dowager paused, glancing briefly down the corridor before summoning one of her maids with a flick of her wrist.
"Martha," she said quietly, beckoning the girl forward. "I require a task of delicate nature."
She leaned in, whispering something into the maid's ear. Martha's eyes widened only slightly before she bowed low.
"As you command, Your Majesty," Martha said, then hurried off with purpose.
The Empress Dowager turned next to her other maid.
"Lilian, arrange for my tea. I shall have it served in the Rose Chamber."
"At once, Your Majesty," Lilian replied, disappearing with haste.
Then came her steward, dutiful and composed.
"Your Highness, your chamber has been prepared in the North Wing."
"Excellent," she replied with a nod. Without another word, she swept down the corridor, her presence leaving a chill in her wake.
Back in one of the court parlours, Duchess Aurelia rose with deliberate elegance the moment she received word of the Empress Dowager's departure from the emperor's study.
"Where are you going, my lady?" Lady Calantha inquired, rising as well.
"To pay my respects, naturally."
"May I accompany you?"
The duchess turned, her gaze calculating.
"You may, but on one condition." She stepped closer, her voice like velvet over glass. "You are not to speak unless spoken to. The Empress Dowager has little patience for idle chatter."
Lady Calantha gave a quick nod. "Of course."
"Very well. Come along."
They swept out together, their silks rustling like warning bells in the quiet halls.
Meanwhile, Lola wandered the palace gardens, her mind adrift in tangled thoughts. The wind teased a few strands of hair from her updo as she moved, her footsteps light but aimless. The emperor's silence had begun to weigh on her soul, and her heart, though resilient, could not ignore the ache.
She was rounding a stone path when she collided with someone solid and unexpected.
"Oh!" she gasped, stepping back. "Apologies. I didn't see you there." She gave a curt, instinctive bow.
The man she had bumped into was no ordinary guard. His bearing was proud, his cloak bearing the insignia of a high-ranking warrior. Yet, there was something almost royal about the way he held himself.
"You ought to look where you're going," he said sternly. "You cannot simply barrel into anyone you please."
Lola lowered her gaze, chastened. "Of course. I meant no offense."
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her mid-step.
"Wait. Are you… Lola Cavendish?"
She froze. Slowly, she turned back to face him, her brow furrowing.
"Do I know you?" she asked cautiously.