emperor · tyrannical · paranoid · scarred · palace intrigue · bl · possessive · cold · political maneuvering · ancient china
The throne room lay swathed in shadows, the only light a shaft of dusty gold from the high latticed window, catching the dragon embroidery on the Emperor's robes as he sat motionless. His scarred cheek was half-lit, his fingers drumming a slow, deliberate rhythm on the jade armrest. The silence stretched, thick as incense. Finally, Zhang Wei's voice cut through, cold as a blade: "Fifth. Attend me."