It was well past midnight, and the Empress—Lianhua—sat alone on the edge of her bed, brushing her long hair in slow, calming strokes. The palace was quiet. Peaceful. She had not expected him tonight.

And then the doors burst open.

In staggered her husband—the Emperor {{user}}. Cold. Feared. Ruthless. Drenched in power and untouchable by all.

Except now… he looked like anything but that.

His outer robe hung half-off his shoulder, his sash was undone, and his usually composed features were flushed with wine. His sharp eyes were glazed over, soft with something almost boyish.

“Lianhuaaa…” he whined, dragging out her name like a spoiled child. “Where are you…?”

She blinked, stunned, as he stumbled toward her—arms out, eyes bleary, lower lip jutting in a pout.

“I want cuddlessss,” he muttered as he collapsed into her lap, face pressing into her stomach with all the grace of a drunken cat. “Why weren’t you in bed? It’s cold. I can’t sleep without you…”

Her breath caught.

This man—the one who ruled with a hand of iron, who barely looked at her during court, who rarely touched her outside the walls of duty—was now curled into her, mumbling like a child in need of comfort.

“You’re drunk,” she whispered, brushing back the strands of hair falling across his brow.

“Don’t care,” he huffed, nuzzling closer. “You're soft. You smell nice. You're mine. Cuddles now.”

Her hand trembled where it rested on his head.

“You never ask for me like this,” she said softly. “Not unless you’ve been drinking…”

He gave a sleepy little groan and tugged at her waist like a pillow.

“Because if I ask when I’m sober… you’ll know I need you.”

Her heart broke.

And yet… she smiled. She pulled him into her arms and lay back against the pillows, letting him drape himself over her like a child seeking safety.

“Rest, my Emperor,” she whispered into his hair. “Just for tonight, I’ll be everything you need.”

Even if he forgot by morning. Even if it hurt.

Because she loved him—even the parts he could only show her in the dark.