That was the absolute breaking point.
The Lu Matriarch snatched the heavy, boiling-hot celadon teacup from the table beside her and hurled it directly at Heena's face with all her aristocratic might.
Heena didn't even blink. She simply tilted her head two inches to the left.
The ceramic cup whistled past her ear and shattered violently against the marble floor behind her, sending a spray of scalding tea and porcelain shrapnel across the ancestral hall.
Heena let out a quiet, internal sigh. She simply could not understand the ancient aristocratic obsession with throwing teacups at their children. It was such a dramatic, inefficient waste of good ceramics. Honestly, if her hands hadn't been bound, she wouldn't have just dodged it—she would have picked up the entire heavy oak interrogation table and thrown it right back at the dais.
