The night air was crisp, cool against the heat of the lanterns that lined the Imperial Walkway.
Zhao Rui left the Lantern Hall with the faint taste of wine still on his tongue and Lady Chen's perfume trailing behind him.
He loosened the gold clasp at his throat, exhaling softly. The evening had been pleasant enough—her laughter familiar, her touch light—but the talk of loyalty and promises had weighed on him more than the food itself.
The court was restless. The border remained tense.
Peace, even within these marble walls, was a luxury he could not afford.
As he turned the corner toward his study, a shadow detached from the far corridor.
"Elder Brother."
The voice was smooth, low, polite.
Prince Liang approached with a faint smile, his silver robe glinting beneath the torchlight.
Zhao Rui slowed, inclining his head slightly. "Liang. Out so late?"
