They took the audience chamber like it belonged to them. That was their first mistake.
General Yuan walked as if the floor had been built to carry his boots. Imperial Consort Mei glided as though she owned the lacquered pillars and the painted dragons curling up them. Lady Yuan—oh, she was the worst. She walked forward with her chin so high that I was surprised she didn't trip over her own feet. Her steps were perfectly measured so her silk whispered with each movement, a little performance for the ministers pressed into the corners to watch.
The others might have been bad enough, but the one to truly take the cake was Commander Yuan Lixing, the son of the man that meant to be Emperor. He walked like he was already been declared heir and nobody could touch him.
