I did not wait for ceremony, nor did I tell anyone what I was doing.
For a moment, I thought I should tell Mingyu what my plans were, but at the same time, I knew that it would put him in an awkward position.
He was the Emperor… he couldn't just turn around and kill a minister simply because someone had said something.
I, on the other hand, didn't have those same limitations.
Minister Han's chambers smelled of old incense, the kind that clings to silk until even the moths grow sick of it. He rose when I entered, his robes falling perfectly, and his hands folded in front of him.
He was the perfect image of a servant of rites.
"Your Majesty," he began, bowing low. "If this is about the offerings—"
"It is," I cut in. "Offerings you thought to make to Baiguang."
He froze, still bent, then straightened too quickly. His eyes flicked past me, measuring how many guards had followed. None. I didn't need them.
