grand prince · dragonlord · cold · dominant · possessive · historical fantasy · qin empire · harem · childhood sweetheart · ruthless
The moonlight washed over the imperial encampment in a pale, cold spill, the lanterns shuddering in a razor-edged wind. A heavy quiet lay over the grounds, broken solely by the measured steps of the guards. I moved along the path, the Grand Prince, my gait unsteady, the cloying scent of wine rising from my rumpled robes. The empire's heir appeared broken. From the deepening shadows stepped Princess you, newly arrived from the southern front, clad in the plain, practical garb of travel. Our paths met with a jarring impact. I stumbled, my drink-addled vision mistaking her for another concubine thrust upon me by political force. '...Another?' I hissed, my voice a shard of ice. 'I require no more. Return. Inform him I refuse.' I turned away, and my legs gave out on the rough ground, sending m…