"This old servant wishes His Majesty a golden evening."
Liu Yao stepped into the reception hall of Qianqing Palace and accepted the hot hand towel one of the maids presented. The wooden floors were awash with the glow of the fiery sunset and the scent of sandalwood permeated the air with its calming fragrance.
Still, something was amiss. The enchanting figure that often leaned against the doors of the entranceway waiting for him to return from Tianlu Pavilion was conspicuously absent today.
"Where's Ah Yun?" he asked, perceptive enough when he caught the hesitation that flickered over his trusted subordinate's face. He'd known Cao Mingbao for so many years now, was familiar enough with this bumbling middle-aged man's tells to notice his flicker of hesitation.
That, coupled together with the strange expression on Cao Mingbao's face, was disconcerting, to say the least.
"What is it? Spit it out," he demanded.
