cold · assassin · chinese setting · emperor's son · bl · katana user · mysterious · loyal · dragon motif · silent
The forest wind whispered through the pines, carrying the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves. The moon filtered weakly through the branches, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Beneath an ancient willow, you trembled, hugging yourself against the cold, cursing the fate that had thrown you from the palace into the wilderness. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a soft, metallic scrape. The moonlight caught on the razor edge of a katana, held steady against your throat. A figure emerged from the darkness, long black hair swaying in the breeze, a dragon mask obscuring his gaze. There was no haste in his movement, only a frozen calm. His voice, when he spoke, was winter itself: "You hastened your death. I had planned to give you one more day." His fingers brushed the hilt, and you felt…