The day Empress Rena died, the skies above the empire darkened with the weight of an unspeakable grief.
It was a day like any other, yet it would be remembered forever as the day the heart of the empire stopped beating.
Rena's palace, usually filled with the laughter of courtiers and the soft hum of conversation, fell eerily silent.
The only sound was the quiet shuffling of a single servant as she poured tea into the Empress's favorite porcelain cup. She trembled as she did so, her fingers brushing against the vial hidden in her sleeve.
The few drops of poison she added to her tea were nearly invisible, mixing seamlessly into the amber liquid.
She glanced toward the door, her heart pounding in her chest, half-expecting someone to burst in and stop her.
But the corridor remained empty, just as Ohtis Marcelo had assured her it would.
