Night had settled quietly over the palace.

The lanterns in the imperial courtyards burned softly under the cold wind, their golden light flickering against long stone corridors.

Inside the Emperor’s courtyard, silence filled the study hall.

The servants had already withdrawn.

Only the faint sound of turning pages remained.

—

The Emperor sat behind his desk, reading reports.

But his attention was elsewhere.

Again.

And again.

His brush paused halfway across a document.

His thoughts drifting.

—

Toward her.

—

The Empress.

—

Ever since returning from the Duke residence, his mind had been unusually restless.

The laughter around the mahjong table.

Her smiling quietly at her family.

The way she blushed when he kissed her forehead.

Everything replayed inside his mind repeatedly.

—

A faint smile unconsciously appeared on his lips.

Then—

He suddenly froze.

—

"...Wait."

—

His expression changed instantly.

—

The Empress.

—

At the shrine.

—

He had completely forgotten.

—

The Dowager Empress had punished her previously, forcing her to stay in the ancestral shrine for reflection.

But recently—

Too many things had happened.

The ambush.

Lady Chen’s strange reaction.

The Duke residence.

The banquet preparations.

—

And somehow—

He forgot to officially bring her back.

—

The Emperor rubbed his forehead slowly.

"...Unbelievable."

—

Then he remembered something else.

Earlier that evening—

The Dowager Empress had already quietly lifted the punishment.

Meaning—

The Empress was free to leave the shrine.

—

Yet no one had informed him properly.

Or perhaps—

He simply had not been paying attention.

—

A strange guilt settled in his chest.

—

Without hesitation—

He stood up.

—

The servants outside immediately straightened.

"Your Majesty?"

—

"Prepare clothes."

"I’m going to the shrine."

—

The servants blinked slightly.

"At this hour?"

—

"Yes."

His tone left no room for question.

—

Within moments—

He changed into simpler dark robes.

Less imperial.

More comfortable.

—

Then—

Without escorting officials or unnecessary ceremony—

He left.

—

Meanwhile—

Far away in the quiet ancestral shrine—

The atmosphere was completely different.

—

Peaceful.

Calm.

Almost isolated from the chaos of the palace.

—

The Empress sat beneath the open pavilion near the shrine garden.

A warm cup of tea rested in her hands.

Moonlight spilled softly over the courtyard.

The sound of wind chimes echoed gently nearby.

—

Surprisingly—

She had not hated these days.

—

In fact— 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

They had been strangely peaceful.

—

No palace politics.

No concubines.

No constant tension.

—

Just quiet.

Silence.

Rest.

—

And ghosts.

—

Fen Yu floated upside down nearby.

"I still think Lady Chen saw something."

—

The scholar ghost, Li Shen, nodded thoughtfully.

"Her reaction was too instinctive."

—

The general ghost crossed his arms.

"She looked terrified."

—

The Empress looked down at her tea quietly.

Her expression thoughtful.

"...I agree."

—

Fen Yu sat up immediately.

"You do?"

—

The Empress nodded slowly.

"Yes."

"She wasn’t acting."

—

Her gaze darkened slightly.

"That fear..."

"...was real."

—

Li Shen adjusted his sleeves thoughtfully.

"Then perhaps..."

"...she remembers something subconsciously."

—

The Empress nodded again.

"Yes."

—

Her fingers tightened slightly around the teacup.

"I think she saw something she was never supposed to see."

—

Silence settled briefly.

—

Then the general ghost spoke quietly.

"And someone erased it."

—

The Empress lifted her eyes slowly.

Moonlight reflected faintly inside them.

"...Exactly."

—

Fen Yu frowned.

"But if her memory was erased..."

"...why is she still reacting?"

—

Li Shen answered calmly.

"Because some fears remain even when memories disappear."

—

The Empress fell silent.

Thinking deeply.

—

Then she spoke softly.

"If someone can erase memories..."

"...then this is far more dangerous than we thought."

—

The wind suddenly grew colder.

The lantern near the shrine flickered faintly.

—

The general ghost narrowed his eyes.

"...Someone’s coming."

—

The Empress looked up.

—

Footsteps.

Slow.

Steady.

Approaching the shrine courtyard.

—

Then—

A familiar figure appeared under the lantern light.

—

The Emperor.

—

The Empress blinked slightly.

"...Your Majesty?"

—

He stopped upon seeing her.

And for a brief moment—

He simply looked at her.

—

Sitting peacefully beneath the moonlight.

Hair loose.

Expression calm.

Surrounded by silence.

—

Beautiful.

—

Something inside his chest softened immediately.

—

The ghosts floated backward instinctively.

Fen Yu whispered dramatically,

"He came himself."

—

The Empress slowly stood.

"You came at this hour?"

—

The Emperor walked closer.

"...I forgot."

—

She blinked.

"...Forgot?"

—

A rare trace of embarrassment crossed his face.

"...I forgot you were still here."

—

For a second—

The Empress stared at him.

Then unexpectedly—

She laughed.

Softly.

Genuinely.

—

The Emperor froze slightly.

Because lately—

He realized something.

—

He liked hearing her laugh.

—

"It seems Your Majesty has been very busy," she said lightly.

—

He sighed quietly.

"...Too many things happened recently."

—

Then his expression softened.

"The Dowager has lifted your punishment."

"You can return now."

—

The Empress looked at him quietly.

"...I know."

—

The Emperor blinked slightly.

"You knew?"

—

She nodded.

"A maid informed me earlier."

—

"...Then why didn’t you leave?"

—

The Empress looked around the shrine calmly.

"...It was peaceful here."

—

The Emperor paused.

Then looked around as well.

Quiet lanterns.

Cold night air.

Stillness.

—

"...You liked staying here?"

—

She smiled faintly.

"At least no one tried to kill me here."

—

His expression darkened instantly.

Guilt flashed through his eyes.

—

"...I’ll find out who did it."

—

The Empress looked at him carefully.

For once—

He didn’t sound like an emperor making promises.

—

He sounded sincere.

—

The wind brushed through the courtyard again.

—

Then—

The Emperor stepped closer.

Not too close.

Just enough.

—

"Come back."

He said quietly.

"The palace feels empty without you."

—

The Empress froze slightly.

Even the ghosts fell silent.

—

The moonlight flickered softly over the shrine courtyard.

And somewhere deep inside—

Something shifted again between them.

The Words That Broke Him

The shrine courtyard fell quiet again after the Emperor’s words.

"The palace feels empty without you."

The sentence lingered softly beneath the moonlight.

The wind moved gently through the trees.

The lantern beside the pavilion flickered faintly.

And for a brief moment—

Everything felt calm.

Fragile.

Like something delicate standing at the edge of breaking.

—

The Emperor stood in front of her.

His gaze steady.

Waiting.

Perhaps expecting her to soften.

Perhaps believing things were finally changing between them.

—

The ghosts remained silent nearby.

Even Fen Yu, who usually interrupted everything, said nothing.

Because all of them could feel it.

Something important was about to happen.

—

The Empress lowered her eyes briefly.

Thinking.

Then slowly—

She looked back at him.

"...Your Majesty."

—

The Emperor immediately noticed the change in her tone.

Calm.

Too calm.

—

"...What is it?"

he asked quietly.

—

The Empress took a slow breath.

Then—

"...There is something I want to tell you."

—

The Emperor nodded slightly.

"Speak."

—

The shrine suddenly felt colder.

Even the wind seemed to stop.

—

The Empress looked directly into his eyes.

And spoke clearly.

—

"I want a divorce."

—

Silence.

—

Absolute silence.

—

For a second—

The Emperor thought he heard wrong.

—

His expression froze completely.

"...What?"

—

The Empress remained calm.

"I want to leave the palace."

—

The Emperor stared at her.

As if unable to process the words.

—

"...Divorce?"

—

She nodded slowly.

"Yes."

—

The ghosts looked stunned.

Fen Yu’s mouth fell open.

Even the general ghost frowned deeply.

—

But the Empress continued quietly.

"I want to give my position to Lady Chen."

"She has always been the one you wanted beside you."

—

The Emperor’s face slowly turned pale.

—

"No."

The word came instantly.

Sharp.

Instinctive.

—

The Empress continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

"I will remain here temporarily."

"At the shrine."

"And once the divorce letter is prepared..."

She paused softly.

"...I will return to the Duke residence."

—

Each word landed like a blade.

Slowly.

Precisely.

—

The Emperor stared at her in disbelief.

His chest tightening painfully.

—

"...You’re joking."

—

His voice sounded strained now.

Almost desperate.

—

"You’re angry because I forgot to bring you back personally."

"That’s why you’re saying this."

—

The Empress looked at him quietly.

Then unexpectedly—

She laughed softly.

But there was no warmth in it.

—

"You think I care about that?"

—

The Emperor’s heart sank.

—

Because her eyes—

Were calm.

Too calm.

—

Not emotional.

Not impulsive.

—

She meant it.

—

"I truly don’t care anymore, Your Majesty."

—

The words shattered something inside him.

—

The Emperor took a step forward instinctively.

"No."

"You don’t mean that."

—

But the Empress only looked at him steadily.

"I do."

—

The wind moved again.

Cold.

Sharp.

—

The Emperor suddenly realized something terrifying.

—

She wasn’t threatening him.

She wasn’t trying to gain attention.

She wasn’t testing him.

—

She had already decided.

—

And that realization—

Made panic rise inside his chest for the first time in years.

—

"...Why?"

he asked quietly.

The question almost sounded broken.

—

The Empress fell silent briefly.

Then spoke softly.

"Because I’m tired."

—

The Emperor’s fingers tightened slowly.

—

"Tired of proving myself."

"Tired of surviving."

"Tired of being hated for existing."

—

Her voice remained calm.

But every sentence carried exhaustion buried for years.

—

"You once wanted to strangle me."

"You ignored me."

"You punished me."

"You believed others over me."

—

The Emperor’s face lost more color with every word.

—

"And now suddenly..."

She smiled faintly.

"...you care?"

—

He opened his mouth.

But no words came out.

—

Because she wasn’t wrong.

—

Everything she said—

Was true.

—

The Empress looked away briefly toward the quiet shrine courtyard.

"...I almost died."

—

The Emperor’s breathing faltered.

—

"And when I stood between life and death..."

She continued softly.

"...I realized something."

—

Her gaze returned to him.

Clear.

Steady.

—

"I don’t want to spend the rest of my life begging for love."

—

Silence.

—

The Emperor felt as if something was crushing his chest.

—

Because for the first time—

He understood clearly.

—

She had stopped waiting for him.

—

And that terrified him more than anything else.

—

"You said you would wait for me to trust you," she said quietly.

"But Your Majesty..."

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

Sad.

Gentle.

—

"...I no longer want to try."

—

The shrine fell completely silent.

Even the ghosts couldn’t speak.

—

The Emperor looked at her as if the world beneath him was collapsing.

—

"No..."

he whispered.

—

His voice sounded unfamiliar even to himself.

Weak.

Shaken.

—

"You can’t leave."

—

The Empress looked at him quietly.

"Why?"

—

He froze.

—

Why?

—

Because he loved her?

Because he couldn’t lose her?

Because the thought of her leaving made him unable to breathe?

—

But none of those words came out.

—

And that silence—

Said everything.

—

The Empress lowered her eyes briefly.

"...You see?"

—

The Emperor clenched his fists.

His entire chest hurt.

—

For years—

He thought she would always remain beside him.

No matter how cold he was.

No matter how much he ignored her.

—

But now—

She was letting go.

—

And he didn’t know how to stop her.

—

The wind blew harder through the shrine courtyard.

Lantern light trembled faintly.

—

The Emperor stood there silently for a long moment.

Looking at her.

Memorizing her.

Afraid.

—

Then finally—

Without another word—

He turned.

—

And left.

—

The sound of his footsteps echoed heavily through the shrine path.

Slow.

Unsteady.

—

The Empress remained standing beneath the moonlight.

Watching silently as his figure disappeared into darkness.

—

Only after he was completely gone—

Did she slowly close her eyes.

—

Her chest hurt too.

More than she expected.

—

But she didn’t stop him.

—

And somewhere far away—

For the first time in his life—

The Emperor understood what it meant—

To truly fear losing someone.