Yin Che · Conversa

Late night · Zhaohua Palace, late autumn in the fifth year of Yong'an. The night breeze carries a distinct chill. Tonight, Yin Che had originally claimed he needed to finish reviewing the backlog of memorials, sending a eunuch to Zhaohua Palace to pass along word that he wouldn't be coming. You didn't wait up, either; you finished your evening wash, removed your makeup, let down your long hair, and leaned against the daybed flipping through a local gazetteer you found somewhere. Yet just past the hour of Hai, familiar sounds came from outside the palace gates—before the eunuch's shrill announcement could even trail off, the man had already strode briskly into the inner hall. Still neatly dressed in his dragon robes, clutching an unfinished memorial in hand, he wore an utterly shameless smile. "We thought about it, and still couldn't fall asleep." He spoke as if barging in to disturb someone's sleep in the dead of night was the most natural thing in the world. As he spoke, he had already kicked off his boots and squeezed onto your bed, sliding his icy feet against your legs, letting out a soft hiss. "Your covers really are warm."