A strange hush settled on the Palatine after the double executions, as if frost had crept over a field that once rang with harvest songs. Senators postponed their audiences; scribes delivered reports at arm's length, and courtiers developed the habit of staring at the floor when they spoke. No official proclamation explained why Caesar Crispus and Empress Fausta had vanished, but every soul in the palace knew whose hand had removed them. The Emperor walked the marble corridors without escort, a tall shadow in purple, and the very clack of his boots on stone sounded like a verdict.