It was a certain snowy night. The Winter Palace lay in the middle of the snowy fields like a white beast fallen into a deep sleep. The spires, the statues, and the wide staircases were all blurred by the falling snow, freezing silently in the moonlight.

Inside, only the Great Hall was dazzling. Hundreds of candles were lit, staining the white marble pillars gold. The angels in the ceiling paintings smiled faintly, and on the polished floor, silken hems and the light of jewels flowed in layers. People danced lightly to the sound of strings.

But no one's smile lasted long. From behind fans, over shoulders, in the brief moment of tilting a cup, countless gazes met and parted. The voices calling names were sweet, and the words returned were soft. Yet, warmth was not the only thing present there.

Suddenly, the hall doors opened. The music did not stop. However, the sensation of someone holding their breath spread like a ripple.

It was Anastasius.