"It seems the First Elder has some objections to me being the one who walked in."
The First Elder's fingers tightened around his teacup. The celadon cup gave a faint, brittle crack in his palm, and the fissure in its wall lengthened a little, like a slender thread slowly crawling across the porcelain.
His lips pressed into a straight line. His gaze lingered on Shen Fei's face for several breaths before he spoke.
His voice was a couple of pitches lower than usual, weighted with a gravity forced up from deep in his throat. "Murdering your father to usurp his position-what a disgrace. Since when has the Sacred Family ever produced a scoundrel like you?"
As those words fell, it felt as though a layer of air had been sucked out of the council hall.
Several stewards drew their necks in slightly and unconsciously leaned farther back in their chairs.
The Third Elder's gaze left the documents, settled on the First Elder's face, then swiftly returned to the table.
Shen Xiu twisted the handkerchief in her hands even tighter, her knuckles turning white.
Shen Fei did not rush to answer.
He picked up the cup of tea on the table, which still held a trace of warmth, and lowered his head to take a sip. The tea was slightly astringent as it passed down his throat, carrying a hint of coolness. It was neither hot nor bitter, merely the taste of ordinary autumn tea.
He set the cup gently back on the table, slowly traced its rim with the pad of his finger, then raised his head and rested his calm gaze on the First Elder's face.
When he spoke, his voice was still neither loud nor soft, carrying the same tone he had used for his opening remark.
"Let