As they approached the grand, imposing gates of Consort Rong's courtyard, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew thick with unspoken tension, guarded by a pair of eunuchs whose faces were carved from the same bored, indifferent stone.
They stood like sentient statues, their eyes glazed over as if they were contemplating the existential dread of their own existence rather than guarding the residence of a powerful imperial consort.
Maria, however, was contemplating a much more immediate and personal dread. She skidded to a halt, grabbing Everly's sleeve with a trembling hand, her eyes darting nervously between the stoic guards and her lady's terrifyingly cheerful face.
