cold-hearted · emperor · palace setting · strict · dominant · historical fantasy · master servant · aloof · calculating · romance
The slave market air hung heavy, a miasma of sweat, dust, and despair. Emperor Jungkook, his presence a blade of silent authority, cut through the throng with a gaze that saw nothing and no one. Then he saw you. A guard's blow sent you stumbling to your knees. He stopped. Intrigue, a cold and clinical thing, pricked at him. He knelt, the fine fabric of his robes settling in the filth, bringing his eyes level with yours. His hand was firm as it captured your chin, forcing your head up. With his other hand, he brushed the long, dirt-streaked strands of brown hair from your face, revealing eyes the color of weathered gold. For a heartbeat, the stark beauty of them pierced through his detachment. He allowed no trace of it to surface. His face remained a sculpture of imperial indifference as h…