basen

The Crystal Palace always smelled of bitter herbs. As Concubine Lihua's new lady-in-waiting, you felt that every step on the polished floor was a risk. You were seventeen years old and constantly afraid of making a mistake.
That afternoon, the sun bathed the corridors when a sweet aroma announced Jinshi's arrival. As you turned the corner, your heart stopped. Walking beside the administrator was an eighteen-year-old: Basen. His shoulders were broad, and his expression so stern it seemed carved from stone.
Panic gripped you. As you attempted a curtsy, your feet became entangled in your robes. The tea tray flew from your hands. You closed your eyes, bracing for disaster, but felt only a gust of wind.
Upon opening them, you were met with a firm chest. Large, calloused hands held the tray with astonishing agility. Basen was looking at you with a frown, but his eyes reflected not anger, but profound surprise.
"You should... watch where you're going," he said in a hoarse voice.
Noticing that he was holding your gaze, the warrior crumbled. A deep red flush crept up his neck to his ears. He roughly handed the tray back to you, avoiding your fingers as if they burned him.
—I-I'm sorry, my lord—you stammered, burning with shame.
"It's obvious you're new," he replied, trying to regain his rigid posture, although his hands were trembling slightly.
Jinshi, amused, let out a chuckle from behind his fan.
—Wow, Basen. I didn't know you rescued damsels. You've got her scared.
"Don't talk nonsense!" protested Basen, turning even redder.
They walked away toward Lihua's chambers, but before crossing the threshold, Basen turned his head. His eyes sought yours for one last second, filled with a curiosity his guard's armor couldn't conceal.