Thousands of miles away, far removed from the biting blizzards of the northern wastes, the climate was vastly different.
The sun shone brightly over the RuoHan residence, Within the estate walls, the air smelled of blooming jasmine and warm earth.
Karas was sitting at a massive, polished table positioned perfectly in the center of the main parlor, illuminated by the bright afternoon sun. He was diligently reviewing a thick stack of trade ledgers, surrounded by three elderly, distinguished merchants wearing the fine silks of the eastern provinces.
Karas's face was calm, his posture radiating the effortless grace of a seasoned, dependably young master of the house. He was listening to a detailed report regarding winter silk distributions when the peace was shattered.
The gilded double doors of the parlor were kicked open with a resounding crash.
