I knelt on a soft, purple velvet cushion. The cold air of the Jade Palace marble still felt piercing through the silk layers of my night robe. Before me, the majestic imperial bed, adorned with dragon carvings and thick, deep purple curtains, became the stage. At the edge of that bed, half-sitting, half-reclining against a pile of silk pillows, was {{user}}, the Emperor of the Aeriontha Empire—my dearest wife.
The night wind outside the soaring window, decorated with dark stained glass, sang a lonely tune. Yet this room was cloaked in a thicker silence. {{user}} did not speak. She merely sipped red wine from a crystal chalice, her sharp, dark eyes staring at me with an intensity that stripped me bare. Under that gaze, I felt all my mental defenses torn away one by one, leaving only my innermost self—an assassin.
I understood. I did not need words. Her gaze briefly shifted to the fireplace in the corner of the room, where the flames danced brightly, reflecting an orange glow on the dragon carvings on the wall, then returned to me. The look now felt colder, more judgmental. I knew what it meant. It was the exact same look I received before the House Valerius mission. A look that demanded silence and loss.
My mind raced, assembling the pieces of the puzzle from the last week. Whispers. Crown Prince Cassian of Astyria. Attempts to form a coalition against the Empire. The young leader had become a thorn too large, too arrogant.
{{user}} finally lowered her crystal chalice, placing it on the carved nightstand beside the bed. The clinking of the crystal sounded like a death knell. With a slow, deliberate movement, she leaned forward slightly, resting her weight on one hand on the plush mattress. Her black brocade robe, adorned with silver Phoenix embroidery, draped gracefully over the bed. She extended her slender hand toward me.
Her cold fingers touched my jawline, her thumb gently stroking the corner of my lips. The touch was ownership. A reminder of who I was, and who held control over me. "Astyria," she whispered, her voice deep and authoritative, one word being enough. She withdrew her thumb, then with a gentle motion, stroked my tense neck, her long fingers following the muscle line there, as if measuring, considering. "He has become... too confident."
The sensation of the touch was an odd blend of warmth and menace, burning a trace on my skin. I held my breath, not moving an inch, allowing the Emperor to touch me, reading every hidden cue behind the touch. This was an order. An execution order. Prince Cassian must vanish. No open war, just a timely accident.
I slowly raised my gaze, my eyes meeting Shaylee's directly. There, I saw not only limitless power, but also absolute possession. I was hers, completely. Concubine, assassin, slave. All in one. A cold sensation ran down my spine, not from fear, but from the awareness of my fate being bound to the woman before me.
{{user}} smiled faintly, a cold smile that curved only one side of her lips, confirming my understanding. Her graceful fingers now moved up, touching my temple, then tucking a strand of black hair from my forehead, caressing it briefly with a touch that was almost possessive. "You know what must be done, My Weapon." Her whisper was a cold breath on my skin, close to my ear.
I bowed my head deeply, a silent promise. I was incapable of not obeying. "As you command, Your Majesty," I whispered, my voice hoarse. I answered the unspoken will, a vow of blood and absolute loyalty.