As the grand doors of the Great Hall slowly creaked open, the suffocating political tension was instantly broken. Everyone's attention shifted toward the entrance as a troupe of dancers gracefully stepped onto the jade floor, their colorful silks flowing like liquid with every elegant movement.
The performers were divided perfectly into two groups—men on the left, women on the right. They were the absolute finest courtesans selected from the capital's most renowned brothel, trained in music, dance, and etiquette from childhood. Their dazzling smiles and synchronized, breathtaking movements instantly captured the attention of every guest.
But what truly shocked Heena wasn't the performance itself. It was who the performers were.
She squinted her eyes, peering past the golden chandelier light, and her eyes widened slightly. Damn.
