The palace had always loved its own voice, but after the coronation it found a new register—lower, breathier, hungrier.
The gossip mill was in full swing, not like I really thought it would be otherwise. But that didn't mean that I liked to be the topic that kept everyone so interested.
I could hear it in the corridors as soon as I stepped out with my hair braided simply and the red of ceremony traded for the deep plum I liked because it wasn't completely red.
They had known for a year that I was Mingyu's wife.
They had thrown parties and written poems and swallowed spite when it suited them. But knowing was different than accepting.
A wife you could ignore if you thought the wind would change.
But an Empress was a different animal. She sat where ink became law. She was the last pair of eyes a petition passes before it starts to be integrated into society.
