Marta and Gerris hurried to the palace as soon s they were dismissed, fearing The duchess to have sent men in ambush, waiting for them to pass a lone road.
Neither spoke but each were of the same mind.
The Imperial Wing of the palace was quieter than the rest of the royal residence, though not because fewer people lived there. Silence was simply expected.
Every servant who walked its polished marble corridors did so with lowered eyes and careful steps, mindful not to let their shoes click too loudly against the stone. The walls were lined with crimson silk embroidered in gold thread, interrupted every few paces by towering suits of ceremonial armour and marble statues of long-dead emperors.
Even the air smelled expensive, scented with burning sandalwood and imported incense that lingered beneath the crystal chandeliers.
At the end of the corridor stood the apartments reserved for the Queen.
