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Across the chamber, Zhilan, Qin'er, Yuyao, and the others were still bustling about, folding robes and securing the luggage. The steady rustle of fabric filled the air, but Feng Ling barely paid attention.
Feng Ling rose from the stool and walked toward her bed, slipped off her shoes, and lay down, letting her body sink into the silken sheets. "Zhilan," she murmured, her voice softer now, "if His Majesty comes later, wake me immediately. Don't forget."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Zhilan replied, bowing her head. "This servant will not forget."
As Feng Ling closed her eyes, her thoughts drifted once more to Lan Xue and Lian Huo. She will find a way… she must.
