"May she live a thousand years!" the aristocratic faction chorused, their voices thick with arrogant triumph.
Heena raised her gold cup, her lips curving into a sharp, blood-chilling smile. She brought the sweet wine to her lips, drinking deep, feeling the cold steel of the hidden sword pressing against her thigh.
The music swelled once more, faster and more joyous than before. The dancers spun in a blur of ribbons. The banquet had officially commenced in a hurricane of laughter, exotic food, and flowing wine. It was the most beautiful, opulent, and joyous celebration the Great Dynasty had ever seen.
And Heena sat perfectly still in her black and crimson, waiting for the exact moment to turn it into a graveyard.
The grand banquet progressed into a dizzying, intoxicating spectacle of imperial excess.
