After years spent in the bitter, endless blizzards of the Northwest Territory, where the frost clung to one's eyelashes and every breath bloomed into white fog, the capital's oppressive heat struck like a physical blow. It was humid and the scent of sulfur lingered in the air.
In the lower corridors of the inner court, palace maids hurried across the floors, their silk sashes flying behind them as their embroidered slippers clicked against the stone.
"Faster! Move faster, you fool!" a senior court attendant hissed, smacking a younger maid on the shoulder with a carved bamboo fan. "If the Queen finds a single speck of dust on the balustrades, she will have your skin stripped and used as a rug for her chamber"
"Is… is it true?" the younger maid squeaked, hastily wiping down a gilded pillar while clutching a bronze basin. "Is the Consort really coming back today?"
