That night, the palace was as silent as a tomb. Lin Rui sat at his heavy desk with his fingers resting lightly on the edge of the wood. His body stilled, unmoving, and his eyes stared into the empty darkness of the room.
He had been doing this a lot lately, staring at nothing, lost in a mind that felt more like a prison.
Earlier that day, he had ordered Princess Lian Zhi to be confined to her quarters. He tried to use soft words in his head: Protected. But no matter how he phrased it, the truth remained. He had turned her room into a jail.
He told himself it was the only way left to save the story. Although now, he started losing his confidence as a credible author. Every time he tried to fix his story, the plot began to melt.
Leaning back slowly, his eyes tracing the dark patterns on the ceiling, forcing his mind to focus on the structure of the plot.
First, the royal wedding, then came the revolt. And after that... the sacrifice.
His breath hitched. He thought of Arkan.
