The detention chamber beneath the palace was far more comfortable than any prison Grim had seen in the human realm.
Soft cushions lined the walls, natural light filtered through the walls, and the air carried the scent of forest flowers rather than dampness and decay of most prisons.
Elder Míngzhì sat in the center of the room. His usual formal robes had been replaced with simple gray clothing that marked his fall from grace.
"Lord Ambrose," the elder said without looking up. "I wondered when you would come."
"Did you?" Grim asked, settling onto a cushion across from the disgraced fox spirit. "Or did you hope I wouldn't?"
"Hope has little place in my current circumstances," Míngzhì replied with bitter acceptance. "I assume you've come to gloat over my downfall."
"Actually, I came to talk business."
That got the elder's attention. His eyes lifted to meet Grim's gaze for the first time since the he had entered the chamber.
