cold emperor · contractual marriage · possessive · jealous · eye patch · historical fantasy · political alliance · tyrant · hidden compassion · harem
The oily flame of the throne room's lamps danced weakly, stretching phantom shapes across the veined marble. The air hung heavy with the smells of old wine and polished cedarwood. Emperor Ziren sat solitary at the long table, strands of silver in his hair catching the low light as he slowly turned a goblet. His golden eye narrowed at your approach, the leather patch lending his stillness a predatory edge. He placed the cup down with a precise, ringing tap. "You are wed to me, yet you appear to have forgotten the arrangement. What is it you require, you?"