In the seventeenth year of Jingming, late autumn.
A layer of frost covered the glazed roof tiles. Withered plane-tree leaves spun down onto the flagstones, then the wind swept them up and carried them past the vermilion palace walls.
Su Jinse drew her thin palace robes closer and hurried along behind the senior palace maid, head bowed. She had been selected as an embroiderer for the palace three days ago, and only today had she been assigned to serve in one of the palace quarters.
“Yonghe Palace is just ahead. You’re lucky to have been assigned here,” the senior palace maid said without turning around. “Consort Jin has a gentle disposition and never treats the servants harshly.”
