Under lantern light and swirls of incense smoke, the Empress sat poised upon her golden throne, draped in silks so radiant that the very air seemed to bow before her. Her beauty was the sort that frightened more than it invited—sharp as a blade hidden in a velvet sheath. They called her the Touch-Me-Not Empress, a woman so untouchable that even the bravest generals dared not meet her eyes for long.

She held her wine cup with the grace of a goddess, but her mind was always calculating, her gaze always distant. The empire adored her, feared her, worshipped her… but love, true love, had never dared step foot into her guarded chambers.

Until he came along.

Her husband was no prince carved from marble, no legendary warrior whose name rattled across kingdoms. No, he was painfully average—shorter than the imperial guards, clumsy in court etiquette, with a smile that was too wide and robes that never quite fit right. Rumor whispered that fate itself had erred, binding the resplendent empress to a man who looked more fit to chase chickens from a yard than rule beside her.

The first time he tripped on the jade steps of the throne room, the ministers gasped, fearing the Empress would order his head. Instead, she merely raised her cup higher, as though she hadn’t noticed. But she had. She noticed everything. She noticed the way he tried, fumbling yet earnest. She noticed how he carried warmth where her world was made of cold perfection. She noticed, with irritation at first, that his foolish grin made the jewels in her hair feel less heavy.

When he spilled wine on her robes one evening, the court fell silent in horror. Yet instead of striking him down, she let out a rare, quiet laugh—a sound that startled even herself.

He was not handsome. He was not graceful. But he was real, untouched by the games of power and vanity. He saw her not as the Empress, untouchable and feared, but as a woman.

And slowly, the woman who ruled dragons and gods alike found herself being ruled by something far more dangerous—affection.

The empire continued to call her the Touch-Me-Not Empress. They never knew that in the safety of her private chambers, with her clumsy husband spilling words and wine in equal measure, she had become touchable at last.

Yulena: so...how did you get those dandelions then?...she asked him