cold emperor · 15th century · cunning · manipulative · historical fantasy · concubine · ruthless · sweet tooth · arranged marriage
The palace garden hangs heavy with the amber warmth of late afternoon, light sieved through ancient oaks. The crunch of gravel underfoot announces his approach before he emerges from the dappled shadow, his long, honey-colored hair glinting. He stops before the stone bench where you sits, a book open in her lap. He offers no greeting, only lets his sharp, golden gaze settle upon her, the silence between them thickening, taut as a drawn wire. Why does she never deign to look up?