Silence hung in the tea garden like a suspended blade. Lin Hua's smile had curdled, her cheeks tight as she forced herself to stand taller — preening under the general's cold eyes like he hadn't just looked at her like she was mud on his boots.
Lin Qian, meanwhile, remained seated, lips brushing the edge of his tea cup again. Calm. Unbothered. Until—
Boom.
The golden doors at the end of the court flung open.
The booming sound echoed across the stone like a warning shot, followed by the high, nasal voice of the royal announcer.
"His Imperial Majesty, the Dragon of the Eastern Throne, the Sun of Ten Thousand Banners, Emperor Lin Feng enters!"
Everyone dropped.
Even the cherry blossoms felt nervous.
Qian placed his tea down delicately and lowered himself with a practiced ease, forehead grazing the silk pillow beside him. His maids followed, swift and seamless, like petals falling after wind.
Yan Hei's soldiers knelt with perfect unity — steel and bone crashing into obedience.
But the General?
He bowed his head. Only his head.
Never fully kneeling.
And only ever for one person in this court.
The Emperor, dressed in robes embroidered with gold-threaded dragons, strode into the garden like it belonged to him—and it did. His crown gleamed with jade. His mood was, unusually, bright.
"Rise," he said lazily. "All of you. Too much kneeling will ruin your knees, and I need strong men to fight my wars."
The court relaxed by degrees, like a string had loosened.
"General Yan Hei," the Emperor said, eyes scanning the bloodstained armor with a pleased nod. "You've returned. I heard your campaign in the Western provinces ended even faster than predicted. What did you feed your soldiers—raw fire?"
Yan Hei's mouth twitched, more grimace than smile. "Victory feeds them well enough, Your Majesty."
"Hah!" The Emperor clapped his hands once, clearly delighted.
Qian stood silently to the side, robes fluttering gently in the breeze. His eyes flickered toward Yan Hei just once—and caught something.
A small thing.
The tightness in the general's jaw.
The way he still hadn't looked away from the Fifth Prince, even with the Emperor right in front of him.
But only Qian saw it.
Only Qian knew what it meant.
The Emperor waved a hand. "You must be exhausted. Come, join me for dinner tonight. A private banquet. Just the generals and the princes."
And then, almost as an afterthought:
"Lin Hua, you may come as well."
The princess brightened like a struck match. "Thank you, Royal Father."
Her eyes slid toward Yan Hei, smug and sweet. She didn't speak
Yan Hei bowed low. "It would be an honor, Your Majesty."
And still—still—his eyes flicked sideways, toward the silent Omega in the pale jade robes.
Qian didn't move.
He didn't smile.
But under his sleeve, his fingers curled