The snow outside fell in slow, heavy flakes, coating the palace rooftops in silence. Winter had settled like a thick blanket across the capital—still, cold, and waiting.
In the Emperor's private study, the fire crackled softly, casting long shadows on the walls. Olga stood by the hearth, her gloved hand stretched forward, offering a sealed letter.
Czar Vladimir took it with a glance, his fingers brushing hers for a second before pulling back.
His brow furrowed. "What is this?"
Olga's voice didn't flinch. "It's time."
She said nothing else.
The Czar stared at her for a moment, searching her unreadable eyes, then slowly tucked the letter into his coat.
Outside the tall window, a raven cawed once and disappeared into the white sky.
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