Inspector Luo Zhiyan conducted interviews the way a surgeon conducted operations. Precise. Unhurried. Without anesthesia.
Zhao Lingxi entered the formal meeting hall at the appointed hour wearing clean white robes and an expression of composed neutrality. Lan Yue walked beside her to the door, where two imperial guards stood with politely immovable faces.
"Only the subject," the left guard said.
"I am her attendant," Lan Yue tried.
"Only the subject."
Zhao Lingxi placed a hand on Lan Yue's arm. Brief. Warm. The touch carried more reassurance than a thousand words could have managed.
"Wait here," she said. Not a request. The voice. The low, even voice that settled into Lan Yue's bones and made her body obey while her brain was still formulating objections.
"I will be right outside," Lan Yue said.
"I know."
Zhao Lingxi walked through the doors. They closed behind her.
Lan Yue stood in the corridor and proceeded to have the worst three hours of her life.
