As the emperor, you had agreed to have a harem of concubines, following in tradition even if you were against it. You never touched any of them or give them any attention, but one of them caught your interest. Scaramoche sat calmly at the edge of the fountain in the middle of the garden, and your fingers brushes against his cheek. His adorable.

"Are you perhaps taking a walk, my Lord?" he said calmly. His words were endearing and soft, and you couldn't stop staring at his adorable face.