(Rosaline POV)
I woke to silence.
Not the tense kind—the kind that presses against the ears and waits to explode—but a softer, almost unfamiliar quiet. No knock at my door. No hurried footsteps in the corridor. No murmured voices whispering my name as though it were a liability.
For a moment, I thought I had overslept.
Priscilla drew the curtains back slowly, careful not to startle me. Pale winter light filtered into the room, soft and clean, illuminating the faint steam rising from the tea she had prepared.
"Good morning, my lady," she said gently.
I sat up, waiting for the rest—for the but.
But the emperor has summoned you.
But the council is restless.
But Her Grace—
Nothing came.
I frowned slightly. "No messages?"
Priscilla shook her head. "None. Not from the council. Not from His Majesty. Not even from the palace scribes."
That, somehow, unsettled me more than urgency ever did.
