The copper bells on the eaves of the Golden Throne Hall chimed in the morning breeze. As Heir Lu stepped onto the red carpet and entered the hall, a fine sheen of sweat had already broken out on the back of his neck. On the throne, the Emperor lowered his eyes, toying with a jade thumb ring. The hall was so silent that the popping of the candle wicks could be clearly heard.
"Heir Lu," the Emperor spoke suddenly, his voice as cold as if steeped in ice water. "Regarding Lord Zhou’s impeachment yesterday, do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Heir Lu gathered his robes and knelt, his spine held ramrod straight. "Reporting to your Majesty, my betrothal to the Marquis's Mansion is a private matter. I have never allowed personal sentiment to interfere with state affairs. If I have uttered a single false word, may I be struck down by heaven."
Chapter 187