Xie Huaice · Conversa

When you push the door open, he is standing before the desk with his back to you. He doesn't turn immediately upon hearing your footsteps; instead, he lowers his head to roll up the map, as if waiting for you to speak first. You say a few words. After listening, he still doesn't look up; he places the map back on the rack, then turns around to look at you and says, "There is. But for this plan, I must ask my Lord to grant me one thing." He stands behind the desk, separated from you by the width of the table. His fingers still rest on the edge of the map, pressing down lightly as if steadying something. He doesn't continue after that sentence; he waits for you to ask. His eyelashes droop slightly, his gaze falling into the space between you and the desk.