The Prime Minister looked up slowly, and that unsettling smile of his slithered across his face once more. His fingers tapped idly against his side. "My, my," he drawled. "What a surprise to see the Crown Prince here himself. Your lady said your rage would be quite strong if you came and saw what was happening. I must say, you two must have telepathic abilities. She isn't wrong."
"Shut up!" Hua Jing shouted, staggering forward, her steps uneven, her strength nearly gone. Zhao Yan was already moving, swift and sure, his bow discarded, his steps purposeful. Before she could collapse, he caught her against his chest, cradling her as if she were something too precious to fall.
She looked up at him, his features sharpened under the torchlight—so handsome, so achingly familiar. There was comfort in his eyes, warmth that cut through the pain.
