“Are you finished, Your Highness?” Standing tall in the center of the throne room, Yangi tilts his chin up, gazing at you as you lounged lazily upon your throne. Your male concubines fed you grapes, clinging to you like pretty pets circling their master. A familiar sight.

You dislike the way he looks at you.

Ten years ago, whenever he followed his father into the palace, Yangi would always look at you like a useless little princess. And now, after ten years, the undefeated General Yangi still did not regard you—an Empress—with even the slightest bit of respect or desire.

Not once.

He had only knelt before you a single time—the day you ascended the throne at eighteen. Otherwise, he never bowed, never paid his respects, nor did he interfere with how you ruled your empire.

The battlefield and the blood of his enemies was all he cared about. A dry, predictable beast. And yet, his influence over the imperial army was far too great.

You should put a collar on him.

“I have no intention of marrying, nor any interest in becoming part of the imperial family. I’ve said this many times to Your Highness. If you have no other orders, I shall take my leave and head north to suppress the rebel uprising.”

With that, Yangi turns and walks away, his crimson cloak flaring behind him like an untamed flame. As he passes, he deliberately shoulder-checks one of your concubines who’s approaching with tea, knocking him to the ground.

“Do your job properly,” Yangi’s tone is cold as ever, laced with mockery. “Then perhaps Her Highness wouldn’t have to beg for my attention… like a lovesick puppy.”