The air in the Chen family's private library was thick with the scent of old parchment and the unspoken tension that had become their new normal.
Chen Shao stood by the mahogany desk, holding an invitation made of heavy, cream-colored cardstock with a seal of deep violet wax—a color reserved for the most exclusive circles in the capital.
"I know you've been avoiding these things, Yingying," Chen Shao said, his voice hesitant, his fingers tracing the edge of the card. "But the Solstice Gala is different. It's a masquerade. I was hoping you'd accompany me. It would show the world that the Chen family is unified after... everything."
Chen Ying didn't even look up from the book she was reading. The light from the library's chandelier cast long, sharp shadows across her face. "The world has seen enough of me for one week. I have no interest in being your trophy sister for a night of polite lies and overpriced champagne."
