The great chamber was hushed when Lord Fang entered, followed by several older lords—stern men whose loyalty to the Zhao dynasty had never wavered.
Behind them rang the echo of battle scars and silent grief. They stood there, their cloaks heavy with expectation.
Hua Jing took a breath and stepped forward. "Lord Fang… my lords," she began, voice steady. She motioned toward a curtained side room. "If you wish to speak, please."
These had been the last emperor's loyal lords and during the war they had not switched sides.
Many of them had already been killed by Pei Rong and only a few of them were left.
They had vowed back then to take care of the empire no matter what and now the matter they had come to discuss was in relation to the throne itself.
Inside the private chamber, the group gathered.
Wei Ling, Deng Mi, and Zhao Ling Xu took their places behind Hua Jing.
They were acting like her protection against something sinister.
