The Grand Hall fell silent the moment the Khan entered. Every official, every noble, every courtier who had gathered for the morning assembly knelt and bowed as one.
Lin Rui walked slowly toward the throne, his silver mask reflecting the light from the high windows. Arkan followed two steps behind, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his face as hard as stone.
The atmosphere was heavy today, even more tense than usual. The past few days, the capital had been covered in festive banners. The people were ready for a celebration, but as the Khan took his seat, the air felt far too cold for a wedding.
Lin Rui let the silence stretch until the ministers began to fidget. Then, he spoke.
"The wedding will be postponed."
The words dropped like stones into a still pond. A wave of murmurs broke out, confusion and shock spreading through the rows of noblemen.
Beside the throne, the Dowager's face remained perfectly calm, but her fingers pressed together tightly inside her sleeves.
