The palace banquet sparkled with golden light, music weaving through the air like threads of silk. Every noble lady in sight wore their most dazzling gowns, yet somehow, Lin Yue managed to outshine them all.
She arrived fashionably late, dressed in a crimson silk gown embroidered with phoenix feathers. Jewels dangled from her ears, catching the firelight, but it was her confident smirk that truly stole the scene.
"Lin Yue actually dared to show her face?" whispered one lady, fanning herself.
"She must not know that Bai Xian will be presented tonight," another added, their voice dripping with envy.
Lin Yue, of course, heard every word. She strolled past them with a grace that made their whispers choke in their throats.
"Not know? Darling, I own the script," she muttered under her breath with a sly grin.
At the far end of the hall sat Mo Chen, the warlord himself. Tall, broad-shouldered, his dark robes embroidered with silver wolves. His aura screamed untouchable. He looked like he was carved from cold marble - until his sharp gaze fell on Lin Yue.
For a fleeting second, the mask cracked. His eyes softened, though he quickly hid it under his usual frost.
Lin Yue caught it, of course. Ah, so the warlord does notice me. Interesting.
"Lin Yue," a warm, honey-sweet voice interrupted her thoughts.
She turned, and there stood Bai Xian - the so-called heroine. She was dressed in soft lavender silk, her face glowing with innocence and kindness. Perfect. Untouchably pure. Lin Yue nearly gagged.
"Oh, Bai Xian. Fancy seeing you here," Lin Yue said, sipping her wine.
"I didn't think you would come," Bai Xian replied, her voice gentle but her eyes holding a flicker of challenge.
Lin Yue tilted her head. So the sweet white lotus has thorns, huh?
Before Lin Yue could retort, Mo Chen's deep voice echoed through the hall. "Enough chatter."
All eyes turned to him. His gaze lingered on Lin Yue for a beat too long, his jaw tightening as if holding back words. Then, in a move that shocked the room, he stood.
"Lin Yue, with me."
Gasps erupted. Bai Xian's fan slipped from her fingers. Lin Yue raised a brow, deliberately slow in placing down her glass.
"Careful, Warlord," she purred, striding toward him with a sway in her hips. "People might think you favor me."
Mo Chen's expression didn't change, but the tips of his ears betrayed him - just slightly red.