The morning sun had barely crested the horizon of Thousand Waves City, but the Grand Hall of the Jin Clan was already suffocatingly tense.
The meeting hall was a sprawling, majestic marvel of architecture. Massive pillars of dark red spirit-wood held up a vaulted ceiling painted with ancient, soaring phoenixes. Heavy crimson tapestries lined the obsidian stone walls, and braziers of burning sandalwood filled the air with a thick, expensive haze. It was a room designed to project absolute wealth and martial authority.
At the far end of the hall, upon a raised dais, sat the high-backed, gilded throne of the Matriarch.
Meng Yan sat upon it, draped in her most imposing crimson and gold battle robes. Her emerald hair was pinned up with lethal-looking jade hairpins, and her deep blue eyes were as cold and fathomless as the northern seas.
