In mid-November, Prye City, the Royal Capital, welcomed its first snowfall since winter began.
Snowflakes drifted down from the heavens, covering the roofs, streets, and squares of the entire city in a blanket of white. The distant spires of the palace and the nearby eaves of shops all seemed especially tranquil and solemn against the snow. Children built snowmen on street corners, their laughter echoing through the crisp air. Elderly people stood beneath the eaves, watching this auspicious snow that promised a bountiful year, smiles of contentment on their faces—such heavy snowfall foretold fewer pests and blights in next year's fields, and a fine harvest for the crops.
Karl stood before the study window, gazing at the silver-clad world outside with a steaming cup of tea in his hands. It was newly harvested autumn tea from the southern mountains, carrying a faint orchid fragrance. Steam condensed into a thin mist upon the cold glass, and he traced a small pattern in it with his finger, watching it slowly fade away. A rare hint of relaxation rested on his face. Nearly two months had passed since the new policies were introduced. The measures were being steadily implemented, and their effects were gradually beginning to show. Grain prices across the land were falling, displaced refugees were returning home one after another, and bandits along the trade routes had noticeably dwindled. Everything seemed to be moving in a better direction.
But he knew this was only the beginning. Beneath the surface calm, many pressing problems still lay hidden. Though the Empress Dowager's remaining forces had suffered a crushing blow, they had not been entirely uprooted. Some local nobles paid lip service to the new policies while resisting them in secret. And the dangers at the border hung overhead like a sword, capable of