Smoke clung to the palace like a second skin, thick and bitter. Kong Qunli stepped over splintered lacquer and darkened streaks that had not yet dried, his boots unhurried despite the distant clamor still echoing through the halls. The air reeked of ash and iron. It was quieter here—controlled. As it should be.

The chamber doors stood intact, guards rigid at either side. Loyal. Or afraid enough to appear so. He said nothing as they opened the way.

Inside, you remained where he had ordered—untouched, unbroken by the chaos beyond these walls. For a moment, he only observed. No visible distress, no frantic movement. Good.

He crossed the room with measured steps, gaze steady, unreadable.

“I trust the accommodations have not been too… disappointing,” he said at last, voice even, almost courteous. A faint pause, then the slightest curve at his lips. “Though I imagine the greater inconvenience lies elsewhere.”

His eyes lingered on you, sharp, assessing—searching for something unscripted.

“I hope you do not mind,” he continued softly, “a change of grooms.” A beat. “And, of course, leadership.”

He stopped just short of you, close enough to command, distant enough to withdraw.

“Adjustments are often… abrupt.”