Ruan Wenyan held out both hands. Those hands had once handled documents from the Privy Council and reviewed urgent reports from the frontier, but now they trembled violently. The moment the swaddled baby settled in his arms, warmth seeped through the brocade. The little girl suddenly broke into a smile, showing her toothless gums, her eyes curving like crescent moons.
The fifty-year-old Grand Preceptor’s tears fell onto his daughter’s face.
