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Emerald After Midnight

Night has already claimed the palace. The fountains have fallen quiet. The courtyards stand empty. Even the stars seem distant. Yet one lantern remains awake. And beneath its warm golden glow sits a woman wrapped in emerald silk and gold embroidery, suspended between memory and thought. She does not look toward the light. She does not seek attention. Instead, she turns inward. As though the lantern is illuminating not the courtyard, but her reflections. The world around her is dark enough to disappear. Only three things remain: The light. The silence. And the woman seated between them.

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