Solomon picked up his silver spoon and scooped a small amount of the clear broth from his bowl. He tasted the liquid and immediately dropped the utensil onto his ceramic plate with a loud clatter. The noise drew the attention of the surrounding diners.
"Is something wrong with the food?" Lune asked, pausing her own meal.
"The broth lacks any real kick," Solomon complained, pushing the bowl an inch forward. "I need some crushed fire-root spice to fix the flavor."
Lune raised her hand to signal a nearby maid. Solomon immediately reached over and gently pushed her arm back down.
"Wait," Solomon cautioned, keeping his voice loud enough for the entire room to hear. "Lord Jian just mentioned catching over a hundred spies this morning. They infiltrated the staff and the guards. I simply cannot trust a random servant to fetch my spices. They might slip a slow-acting poison into the jar."
He turned his head and pointed a finger directly at Commander Feng standing by the wall.
