From the moment Lian Zhi entered his chambers that morning until the moment she left at dusk, he observed her with the patience of a hunter.
He was seeking confirmation, proof of her identity or the lack of it. Every question he had asked during their long meeting was a trap, and it had been deliberate. He had tested her all day without her ever realizing she was being measured, asking questions disguised as idle curiosity. He brought up topics that drifted away from the coup, but to who she actually was, or wasn't.
And she had answered. She spoke naturally, using logic and knowledge that belonged to his old world, not this one.
Behind him now, the foreign letter lay open on the table. Lin Rui did not need to look at it again.
She had read the English text. She hadn't just recognized the shapes of the letters, she had understood the meaning behind the words. Her pronunciation was a bit flawed, her tongue heavy with accent, but the structure was correct.
