Princess Cao Zhen stepped from her carriage. The air in Jinyang felt thick. It was warm and smelled of many things. Sweet flowers, like jasmine, are mixed with sharp spices. Underneath it all was a hint of the sea, a salty smell. It was very different from her home in the Western Verdant. Her home was green and cool. The air there smelled of damp earth and pine trees.
The palace grounds were grand. Huge gates guarded the entrance. Tall buildings gleamed with white stone and gold. Guards stood straight, their armor shining. Zhen's carriage had brought her to a side entrance, not the main one. She preferred it that way. Less fuss. Less attention.
She walked towards the palace. Her eyes saw the world, but her senses felt something more. It was like seeing ghosts. Faint shapes of light and shadow, moving where no one was. This was her gift. She saw the past. Not like reading a book, but like faint pictures. Like echoes. Her world was often a soft amber color, tinged with the memories of places.
She entered the palace. The inside was just as grand as the outside. Huge ceilings. Walls covered in painted stories. Sunlight streamed through colored glass windows, making patches of bright color on the floor. People were everywhere. Nobles in fine clothes. Officials in dark robes. Servants hurried by.
Zhen's amber sight immediately picked up more echoes. In this hall, she saw them strongly. Faint outlines of people walking. A quick shape of someone running. A shadowy form of two people arguing, their anger still hanging in the air. It was like a whisper from yesterday.
She felt the history of the place. The palace was old. Very old. Many events had happened here. Many people had walked these halls. Their feelings, their actions, left marks. Like faint scents that never faded. Zhen could sense them. She felt the weight of all those past moments. It made her feel a little sad, a little thoughtful.
She knew why she was here. There had been terrible news. A high minister was murdered. The Nine Realms were on the edge of war. She and Prince Wen Zhi were sent to help the Imperial Inquiry. Her job was to be a scholar. A smart one. But she was also a warrior. She could fight. And she could see the past.
She knew about Prince Wen Zhi. He was from the Eastern Frost. He was known for his battle skills. People said he was perfect on the battlefield. They also said he was quiet and serious. He had a secret, like her. He saw the future. A strange gift. It made him seem distant, they said. Always looking ahead.
Zhen continued walking through the hall. Her amber eyes showed her a hurried shape. Someone had rushed through here recently. Their feet moved fast. Zhen sensed their panic. Why were they in such a hurry? What were they afraid of?
Then, another echo. A whispered argument. It happened not long ago. Maybe last night. Two voices. One was angry. The other was scared. Zhen couldn't make out the exact words. The echoes were faint, like distant music. But the feeling was clear: fear and anger.
She passed a doorway. She saw a guard standing there. In the present, he looked calm. But Zhen's amber sight showed her his echo. A shadow of him fidgeting, his hand shaking slightly. He was anxious. Worried about something. What had happened here to make a guard so afraid?
The political tensions between the Nine Realms were like a dark cloud. Everyone knew about them. War felt close. But Zhen's focus wasn't just on the present danger. Her gift pulled her towards the past. It was the past that held the reasons for the present problems. The shadows of old events were the key.
She reached the area where the high minister had been killed. The main hall was cleared, but the echoes were strong here. So many people had been in this space. So many feelings. Fear. Shock. Confusion.
Zhen closed her eyes for a moment. She let the amber light fill her senses. She felt the recent past rush in. The high minister, Jian, had been here. He was talking to someone. His echo was strong. He was leaning in. His voice was low, urgent. He sounded worried.
Then, another echo. Sharper. Louder. The sound of a gasp. A heavy thud. A moment of panic. The crowd's reaction. It all came flooding in.
Zhen opened her eyes. She looked at the spot where High Minister Jian had fallen. She could see the faint outline of his body in her amber vision. He was talking to someone. Who was it? The echo wasn't clear enough to show a face. Just a shape, standing close to him. A shape that felt… cold.
She saw another echo. A hurried movement. Someone is leaving quickly. Their footsteps were fast, trying not to be heard. They went towards a side corridor. Zhen noted the direction. This might be useful.
She looked around the hall. Nobles stood in groups, talking in hushed tones. Their faces were a mix of shock and curiosity. Zhen could sense their present feelings. But she also felt faint echoes from them. A past fear in one. A past ambition in another. Everyone carried their past with them.
She saw Prince Wen Zhi. He was standing a little apart from the crowd. He looked calm, almost still. His face was serious. He seemed to be looking at something, but his eyes seemed a little unfocused. Was he seeing the future? Zhen wondered. His gift was the opposite of hers. He looked into what was coming. She looked into what had been.
She remembered hearing about his arrival. He was known for his perfect battlefield tactics. His movements were always exact. He never wasted effort. Like a still, deep pool of water. That's what they called his style.
Zhen felt a faint echo of him in the hall. He had been here just moments before. His echo was different from others. It was sharp and precise. Not filled with emotion like hers, but with… awareness. A future awareness.
She saw a servant nearby, carrying a tray. It was piled high with delicate cups. The servant looked nervous. Zhen's amber sight had already picked up an echo of this servant. A slight stumble, a dropped tray, a mess on the floor. It happened just a few minutes ago. It seemed like a small thing, an accident. But Zhen remembered the servant's echo. There was a hint of fear in it, more than just for a dropped tray.
She watched the servant now. He was walking past a particular stone on the floor. Zhen's echo showed her that the stone was slightly raised. The servant's foot brushed against it. He wobbled. For a moment, the cups seemed to tilt. Zhen held her breath. But the servant recovered. He didn't drop the tray. The cups remained steady. The moment passed.
Zhen felt a slight unease. Was it just an accident that was almost an accident? Or was something else at play? Her gift was about seeing the past. It showed her what happened. But sometimes, it also showed her the feelings behind what happened. The fear in the servant's echo felt… important.
She looked towards Prince Wen Zhi again. He was now walking towards the area where the minister had died. His movements were calm and controlled. He seemed to be looking at the floor. He paused near a dark stain on the polished stone. Zhen felt a faint echo from that spot. A feeling of coldness. A wrongness. It wasn't just a spilled drink. It felt… older. Darker.
Wen Zhi looked up. His eyes met Zhen's across the hall. For a brief second, Zhen felt something strange. The amber color of her vision flickered. It was like a light turning on and off. The world seemed clearer. Sharper. Just for a moment. No past echoes. Just the present. It was startling. Then the amber glow returned, stronger than before.
Wen Zhi looked away, his expression unchanging. But Zhen felt a jolt. That flicker. What was it? It felt like their gifts had touched even from across the room. A shared awareness. A recognition.
She turned back to the scene of the murder. The official inquiry team was now taking charge. They were asking questions. Looking for clues. Their faces were serious. But Zhen could sense their echoes too. Their past thoughts. Their present doubts. They were looking for simple answers. They wouldn't see the deeper truths hidden in the past.
Zhen knew her role. She was a scholar. She had to help with the inquiry. But her real work would be in the shadows. Finding the truth in the echoes. Understanding the past to see the present danger clearly.
She thought about High Minister Jian. His echo was strong here. He sounded worried. He had mentioned a name. Or maybe a title? "The Archivist…" Zhen felt a faint echo of fear around that name, even in Jian's past words. Who was this archivist? Was he connected to the murder?
Zhen continued to observe the hall. Her amber sight sifted through the layers of time. She saw faint shapes of guards pacing. Echoes of servants cleaning. Glimmers of nobles whispering. Each one is a small story. Each one a piece of the past.
She felt the weight of it all. The history of this place was heavy. So many lives lived, so many events unfolding. Jinyang was beautiful, yes. But it was also like a cage. A gilded cage. Full of secrets. Full of danger. And she, with her gift of seeing the past, was now trapped inside it too.
She knew Prince Wen Zhi was here. He saw the future. She saw the past. They were opposites. But maybe, just maybe, together they could see the whole picture. The present moment is caught between the past and the future.
Zhen took a deep breath. The air was thick with perfume and spice and the faint metallic tang Wen Zhi had noticed. Her amber sight was a constant companion, showing her the world layered with memories. She was ready to begin her work. The truth was buried here, in the echoes of time. And she was determined to find it. She had to. The Nine Realms depended on it. The weight of that responsibility settled on her shoulders, another layer added to the already heavy history of the palace. But she would carry it. She always did. Her scholar's mind was already piecing together the faint whispers of the past, preparing to uncover the hidden reasons behind the present crisis. The work had begun.