The dawn after the nightmare broke grey and sullen over the Forbidden City, as if the heavens themselves were recoiling from the psychic scream that had torn through the Second Prince's residence. The news, as it always did, traveled on the swift, silent wings of palace gossip. By the time the morning meal was being served, it was the only topic of conversation. Whispers in kitchens, hushed exchanges in laundry lines, furtive glances across courtyards—the Second Prince had seen a ghost. The Second Prince had lost his mind.
