The flickering candlelight danced across the room, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to mock the tension hanging in the air. The cloying scent of jasmine, wafting from the "gift" the Empress had sent, filled every corner, making my stomach churn. You should know, it wasn't the scent of the jasmine itself, but the blatant hypocrisy emanating from it—pungent, like cheap perfume.
Eunuch Zhao, that arrogant fellow, strutted in as if he owned the place. His small eyes darted about, measuring my reaction. Did he think I was easy to fool? Darling, I’ve seen more fake smiles than you’ve eaten hot meals. I wore the sweetest, most innocent expression on my face—the kind that makes elderly ladies pinch your cheeks and say, "God bless you." But deep inside, I was a coiled spring, ready to snap.
"Eunuch Zhao," I said brightly, "what an unexpected surprise! What wind blew you here?"
Chapter 17