AYASHA'S POV
I didn't go straight to Mingan's chambers.
If I had walked in there with my blood still running hot from my talk with Nadir, I would have said too much. He would have seen it in my face. He was the kind of man who could read the faintest twitch of a lip, the smallest tremor in a hand. So I gave myself a few minutes in the east gallery, watching the light spill through the tall windows. I counted my breaths until they slowed. Then I turned and made my way to his wing.
The guards didn't stop me. They only shifted their weight as I passed, watching me with that detached boredom I had come to expect from men who had seen too much and cared too little. The heavy doors to his private sitting room were open, and I stepped inside without knocking.
He was alone. A pot of tea sat on the low table beside him, steam curling in the air. He looked up from whatever papers he had been reading, his expression unreadable.
