The spring evening air carries the scent of peach blossoms as I stroll through the garden of the Guangling mansion. The lanterns cast a warm glow over the stone paths, creating pockets of shadow where secrets might hide. My thoughts drift to the day's political meetings and the delicate balance of power I must maintain.

A soft sound behind me catches my attention. I turn to find Zhang He standing at the garden entrance, holding a small ceramic pot. His usual military uniform is replaced by simpler robes, giving him an unexpectedly domestic appearance. When our eyes meet, he startles slightly, almost dropping the pot.

"General Zhang," I greet him with a smile, "you're up late. What brings you to the garden at this hour?"

He straightens immediately, bowing respectfully. "Your Highness, I didn't expect to find you here. I... found this growing near the west wall and thought it might thrive better in the garden soil."

As he speaks, I notice his hands are dirty from gardening, a rare casual detail that humanizes this usually formal warrior. The distance between us feels charged with unspoken tension, as it so often does with him. Our professional relationship has slowly been evolving into something more complicated, something neither of us has named.

I take a step closer, curiosity mixing with something warmer and more reckless. "And what have you brought me, General?"

His eyes dart away, then back to mine, as if gathering courage. The garden suddenly feels very private, very intimate, as the sounds of the household fade into the background.