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"Haven't you found His Highness yet? A bunch of wastes!"
A roar of scolding burst forth from the room, followed by a noise like the shattering of fragile objects.
The two guards at the office door turned their heads, their faces a picture of shared misery, which soon morphed into a wry smile.
According to the guards' deduction, this time it must have been the vase on the left side of the shelf behind the desk; the one on the right had met its demise two hours earlier. When the maid came to collect the shattered pieces, they were the ones who opened the door. The guards silently mourned the loss of the valuable ornaments, wishing they could reunite in a heaven blooming with chrysanthemums.
Having finished their silent prayers, the soldiers returned to their expressionless state, chests thrust out, backs ramrod straight, unmoving like statues.
