The steam rising from the carved cedar bowl in Crown Prince Zhao Lie’s lap carried an aroma so intensely fragrant that it seemed to mock the solemnity of dynastic war.
For several painful seconds, the young regent of the Golden Sun Empire sat rigid in the plush red velvet armchair. The deep goose-down cushioning beneath him yielded comfortably to his stiff, iron-clad thighs, a luxurious physical sensation he hadn’t experienced since departing the golden palace of Solaris three brutal weeks ago. But Zhao Lie refused to relax. His knuckles remained locked against the carved wooden arms of the chair, his dark eyes glaring with desperate defiance at Lin Xiao.
“Do you take me for an ignorant fool?” Zhao Lie rasped, his voice raw and ragged, trembling with brittle royal pride. “This is an interrogation. You expect me to drink your witch-broth so you can twist my soul and extract our royal troop deployments! What manner of slow-acting spiritual poison is hidden beneath those scallions?! I know the ancient tales of eastern shapeshifters—you offer honeyed lotus nectar before gutting your captives for offering blood-rites!”
Lin Xiao, standing in his relaxed azure scholar avatar, blinked at the young prince.
Interrogation? Lin Xiao thought, a faint sigh rippling through his fluid core. Troop deployments? Offering blood-rites? Buddy, your entire army is already sitting on the grass eating second helpings of noodles and sharing pickled turnips with badgers. What troop deployments are left to extract? The only thing you’re deploying right now is a…
