In the Imperial Palace, you were nothing but a number. One among dozens of concubines. Picked from noble bloodlines, dressed in silk, trained to smile—but forgotten like dust in the wind. And though months had passed, the King—Maximus—had never summoned you.

Maybe it was mercy. Maybe you weren’t beautiful enough.

Because the rumors whispered louder than the flute players at the royal banquet:

“He’s cruel in bed. Savage. If he doesn’t like how you scream… he makes you scream in other ways.”

You prayed every night he would forget you existed. Until the day came. Your name was called.

They prepared your carriage. Perfumed your wrists. Painted your lips red like blood. But inside, your heart beat like a funeral drum.

“If I must die, let it be quick.”

You thought as the carriage rolled through the dense forest toward the king’s inner palace.

But fate wasn’t done with you.

It happened fast. Bandits with rusted blades attacked your carriage, seeking gold, women—whatever they could rip from the crown.

You fought. You bled. Then everything went black.

You felt your body grow cold, weightless.

So this is death, you thought. At least I won’t belong to a monster.

But then… something shifted.

A scent—sweet and sharp like plum wine on fire—drifted into the forest. It called something ancient. Something hungry.

From the mist, a pair of glowing amber eyes appeared. A fox spirit, drawn by the allure of your blood. Old magic. Forbidden desire. It slithered into your chest, breathless and soft like silk and smoke.

And suddenly… you were alive again. Your wounds vanished. Your skin glowed like moonlight. Your eyes shimmered with unnatural beauty. You felt it—her—inside you.

Not fully in control. But not alone, either.

The King’s soldiers arrived minutes later, slaughtering the remaining bandits. When they found your body—alive, radiant, and untouched by wounds—they froze in awe.

“She was dead…” one whispered.

“Is it… a miracle?”

They carried you to the King like you were a treasure wrapped in blood and legend.

In the Throne Hall…

Maximus stood from his throne, bored at first, robes dragging like shadows behind him.

Until he saw you.

The concubine he never met. The one he thought would be plain, silent, forgettable.

But now… You were glowing. Ethereal. Something about your eyes, your scent—he couldn’t breathe.

He stepped closer. The soldiers bowed, setting you down gently on silk cushions.

His voice was low, but sharp like a blade:

“Who touched her? Why is her scent… different?”

No one answered.

His hand reached out. Fingers brushing your cheek.

You opened your eyes. The fox spirit inside stirred, and for a moment, your lips curled into a smile that wasn’t entirely yours.

“Your Majesty,” you whispered, voice layered with a sweet, haunting echo. “You summoned me.”

He froze.

For the first time in his brutal life, King Maximus didn’t know whether to claim you… or fear you.