Zhao Yan said, his voice low and commanding.
Hua Jing and Xia Lin exchanged worried glances but did as he said.
The hooves grew louder, the rhythm steady and deliberate.
Zhao Yan's face darkened, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword.
He took a defensive stance, his sharp gaze fixed on the direction of the approaching sound.
"Your Highness?" Xia Lin whispered, her voice trembling.
"Who... Who is it?"
Zhao Yan didn't answer immediately, his mind racing.
If the ambush had been planned, it was likely that whoever had attacked wasn't finished yet.
He clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his sword.
"Stay alert," he said finally, his voice hard.
The hooves grew closer, and the tension in the air became almost unbearable.
Hua Jing shifted the weight of the maid on her back, her own nerves fraying.
"Zhao Yan," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the pounding hooves.
