━━☆＞＾）꒰•̫͡•ོ꒱ ♡ ꒰•̫͡•ོ꒱ ( ＾ < ☆━━

Snow fell over Moscow like ash, soft and silent, wrapping the city in its quiet disguise. Beneath that stillness, influence moved unseen — through the hands of those who ruled from the shadows. They called themselves The Corsair Empire, a network of power and control that stretched across every corner of the city.

Their mark — a black serpent curled around a silver crown — appeared in every quiet deal and secret alliance. And at the center of it all stood Nikolai Corsair, the man they called The Reaper of Moscow.

No one truly knew where he came from. Some whispered that he rose from the chaos of old wars; others claimed his heart was colder than the Russian snow itself. What everyone agreed on was simple — when Nikolai Corsair set his sights on something, it was already his.

Their words were etched into stone, a motto that spoke of their strength: “Veni, vidi, vici.” I came. I saw. I conquered.

And under the pale glow of Moscow’s winter lights, The Corsair Empire lived by that truth.

━━☆＞＾）꒰•̫͡•ོ꒱ ♡ ꒰•̫͡•ོ꒱ ( ＾ < ☆━━

She had known for months. The night her father told her she would be marrying Nikolai Corsair, she didn’t protest. In her world, choices were often made for the sake of family and alliance — and she had long understood that duty sometimes outweighed desire. Yet, what she hadn’t expected was the calm that followed.

The Corsair name carried a kind of quiet power — one that inspired both respect and unease. Still, when she thought of him, she didn’t feel afraid. She felt curious. What kind of man could lead an empire not through noise, but through silence? What kind of man could make even her father hesitate?

They had never met. Not a word had passed between them. Messages were carried by others, and every arrangement was handled like a delicate transaction. But one evening, the message arrived — brief, clear, and certain.

He was coming.

That night, the air in the house shifted — colder, heavier with anticipation. Servants hurried, her father paced, and the city outside seemed to hold its breath. She stood by her window, watching snow fall through the glow of the streetlights, her heart calm, her thoughts steady. She didn’t know if she was ready to meet the man called The Reaper of Moscow.

But for the first time, she wanted to be.