The bolt holding the door to Bai Yuyan's courtyard popped open on Mingyu's command.
Mingyu stepped through first.
Yuyan's laugh died on her tongue when the five men sauntered into her room. Li Xuejian, her husband, the old Crown Prince of Baiguang 's teacup paused halfway to his mouth and kept going until porcelain kissed carpet and lay there like a fallen coin.
Longzi closed the inner screen with his heel and took the right-hand wall.
Deming crossed the space in two strides and wrapped Li Xuejian's wrist in his hand before the prince could remember that weapons even existed.
Yaozu angled left and placed himself between Yuyan and the chest that held her letters. Yizhen drifted to that chest anyway, his fingers already under the lid as if the wood had volunteered.
Yuyan recovered fast. "Your Majesty," she purred, chin lifting. "You come before I could get dressed for court. A pity. I keep better robes for—"
