"You are a menace, Brother!" Ji'an hissed, rubbing the back of her neck. "What is wrong with you?! You can't just pick people up by the neck in front of the Emperor! I am not a toddler! I am sixteen years old!"
Lin Feng didn't immediately reply.
He slowly walked around the edge of the pavilion, his heavy boots making no sound on the wooden floor.
He reached up, unclasping the heavy, silver-scaled cape from his armor, tossing it casually over the railing. He looked out over the moonlit lake, his broad back turned to her.
Without the blaring lights of the banquet hall, the sheer, imposing reality of his physical presence was overwhelming.
He wasn't just tall; he was built like a fortress. The silver scars on his neck and jaw caught the moonlight.
"Sixteen," Lin Feng murmured, his voice incredibly soft, drifting over the quiet water.
He turned around slowly. The stoic, unreadable mask he had worn for the Emperor was entirely gone.
