The moment the curtains fell closed around Princess Yuyan's tent, the porcelain mask shattered.
A silver tea tray flew across the room, crashing into a lacquered vanity with a sharp metallic clang. Ceramics splintered, scattering shards across the embroidered rug like shattered bones. A brush pot toppled, ink bled into the silk floor mats like a spreading wound. One of her maids shrieked and dropped to her knees, frantically trying to clean up the mess with trembling hands.
"Leave it!" Yuyan snapped, spinning around and glaring at the maid on her knees.
Her voice—once honeyed silk—cracked like brittle glass, slicing the silence in two. The girl didn't hesitate. She bowed so low her forehead nearly kissed the ground and scrambled out of the tent without a word.
Silence followed the moment Yuyan was left alone, but she couldn't appreciate it. Instead of soothing her nerves, it only exacerbated her fury.
It wasn't supposed to go like this.
