"Matriarch Fang, don't you think you're being too impulsive?"
Du Juan approached slowly with a young girl half-hidden behind her robes.
The child's fingers clutched the fabric tightly.
Lin Zhaoyue turned at the voice and her eyes gleamed.
"Does it matter?," she said softly at first… and then her lips curved, the softness sharpening into conviction. "Because, in the end I am going to make this realm his. So that when my husband returns…"
Her gaze lifted toward the distant horizon, fervor blooming in her chest.
"…he will return as the king of kings."
The words left her like a vow carved in stone.
A flush crept up her cheeks, her eyes shining too brightly, almost feverish with excitement.
For a moment she looked less like a matriarch and more like a devout believer proclaiming destiny itself.
The intensity melted away as she lowered her gaze and met the little girl.
Her expression softened and she asked warmly, bending slightly,
