Ciara nursed a pounding headache as Zhan poured her a steaming cup of tea, the fragrant aroma wafting through the room.
"Drink this. It'll soothe the pain," Zhan said, her voice laced with warmth.
Ciara managed a weak smile. "What would I do without you, Zhan?"
Zhan chuckled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Punch the living daylights out of your immediate superior and spend the rest of your life in jail."
Ciara snorted. "Been there, done that."
"Yes, but we made sure he looked incompetent, so it seemed his carelessness led to his downfall."
Ciara giggled, her headache momentarily forgotten. "That was fun."
Zhan smirked before her expression turned serious. "So, what's got you so worked up this time? Are you worried about your children?"
"A bit, but what mother wouldn't be? Though I have faith they'll prevail."
"Then what is it?"
"General Atkin's surviving soldiers."
"Ah, those people... But his victims vouched for them, claiming they provided aid during their suffering."
