QINGZHOU PROVINCE, KINGDOM OF QIN
The throne room of Qingzhou Palace was unusually quiet for midday. King Qin Tiānyuán sat at the head of a long table, a pair of chopsticks poised over a bowl of steaming congee. His advisors spoke in low murmurs about trade routes and grain taxes, mundane matters that required his attention but not his enthusiasm.
His mind had wandered to his daughter more than once earlier in the day, and the night before. He hoped she was alright and settling in just well at the palace.
He was lifting the bowl to his lips when the doors burst open.
A messenger stumbled in, his robes dusty from hard riding, face pale as death itself. He dropped to his knees with a force that echoed through the chamber.
"Your Majesty! I have urgent news!"
Qin Tiānyuán set down his bowl gently. Something in the messenger's voice made his heart race and his mind fear the worst. "Speak. Speak quickly."
