After your father’s death, the crown fell to you—a young queen ruling without a king. You were fierce, wise, and unbending. The court whispered, the nobles doubted, but none could deny your strength.

You ruled alone… but not lonely.

Your royal palace housed five carefully chosen concubines—men of beauty, wit, and unmatched talent. Among them, Zayne was your favorite. He was not just handsome, but his music could tame even your most furious storms. The way he played the flute, it was as if he knew how to speak directly to your soul.

Today, however, no melody could ease your fury. The council had disobeyed your orders. Again. And you stormed back to your private chamber, lips pressed in a tight line.

Zayne was already there, reclining on the velvet chaise, reading. When he saw your expression, he said nothing—just opened his arms.

Without a word, you marched to him and buried your face into his chest, your arms stiff, body tense.

His arms wrapped gently around your waist.

“And now we’re doing angry cuddles, Your Highness?” he murmured into your hair.

You growled low against his chest.

“Why are you so angry?” he asked, peering down at you with that infuriating calmness in his eyes.

You didn’t reply, only burrowed closer, grumbling like a thundercloud. He chuckled.

“I’m doing nothing, Your Highness. I’m just holding you.”