Lian Yue sat at her dressing table, but she was not looking at her reflection.
She had removed the heavy imperial crown, yet her head still felt weighed down by the ghost of it. The servants had been dismissed with a single wave of her hand. She wanted the silence. She wanted the cold air of her private chambers to settle the fury burning in her chest.
On the table sat a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. She didn't touch it. She simply watched the door through the bronze-framed mirror, waiting for the shadow she knew was coming.
When the door finally opened, there was no announcement.
Shen Han entered. He did not look like a man who had just committed a betrayal. He looked like he always did. Calm, professional, and perfectly composed. He stopped in the center of the room with his posture straight. He carried himself with the quiet dignity of a soldier who was simply doing his duty.
