Fang Yuan's lips barely moved as he whispered back, his tone steady, almost reproachful.
"She's an elder of the clan, Zhaoyue."
The soft rebuke was quiet enough that only she could hear it.
Lin Zhaoyue's lashes fluttered, and her smile faltered. Disappointment flickered across her face, settling into something small and wounded.
She looked down, her hands folded neatly in her lap, but the sadness in her eyes lingered like a shadow cast too long.
Fang Yuan didn't linger on it. He turned away, his voice rising to address the hall once more.
"Right now, our clan is not in its brightest state and so we must not forget the sleeping dragon at our borders.Tell me, have the royal family sent any words regards my younger brother?"
"No, Clan Head," one of the elders replied swiftly.
Fang Yuan nodded, his expression unreadable.
