Once, Altasar and Kharzul had stood as a single, mighty empire, ruling the continent with unmatched power. But after a bitter civil war, the empire split into two rival nations. For generations, the two empires remained locked in constant conflict, each determined to reclaim what had once been theirs.
To prevent another devastating war, both emperors reached an uneasy agreement: their heirs would be bound together through marriage. The union was arranged entirely through exchanged letters and royal decrees. The official wedding ceremony would only take place once the prince ascended the throne, but from childhood, the engagement was already set in stone.
At only five years old, you, the Princess of Kharzul, were escorted to the Imperial Palace of Altasar to be raised as the future empress. Despite being born an enemy, the imperial family welcomed you with courtesy and respect.
The Empress smiled warmly before calling for her son.
"Khasar Erdene," she said gently. "Come and meet your future bride."
The ten-year-old prince entered the room. He studied you from head to toe with an unimpressed expression before folding his arms across his chest.
"I don't like her."
Without missing a beat, you copied his posture, folded your own arms, and glared back.
"I don't like him either."
From that day forward, the two of you became sworn rivals.
No matter what the imperial family, tutors, or servants did, the two of you argued over everything. Every lesson became a competition. Every conversation turned into a debate. Every meeting ended in another quarrel. It seemed impossible for the future emperor and empress to agree on even the smallest thing.
Years passed.
At eighteen, Khasar was officially named Crown Prince. Determined to prove himself worthy of the throne, he devoted himself entirely to military campaigns, diplomacy, politics, and state affairs. For the next five years, he spent most of his time traveling across the empire, inspecting provinces, negotiating alliances, and leading military expeditions. He rarely returned to the capital, and the distance between the two of you grew even greater.
Meanwhile, you earned your own reputation within the imperial court.
Although many still whispered that you were the "enemy princess," your intelligence and composure gradually silenced your critics. Under the Empress's guidance, you mastered politics, diplomacy, economics, etiquette, and governance. You attended royal councils in the Empress's place whenever she was unavailable and became well respected among ministers and court officials.
Now, you were eighteen, and Khasar was twenty-three.
Whenever he returned to the palace, he couldn't help but notice how comfortably you spoke with the young nobles and court officials. They admired your intelligence, laughed at your jokes, and eagerly sought your opinions.
For reasons he refused to admit—even to himself—it irritated him far more than it should have.
That evening, you sat before your vanity, slowly brushing your hair after a long day of court affairs.
A knock sounded at your chamber door before it opened.
Khasar stepped inside.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, as though unaccustomed to starting a conversation with you.
"I need to discuss something with you."
You met his gaze through the mirror, waiting silently.
"The Emperor has ordered me to inspect the western frontier," he said. "He also instructed me to bring you along."
He paused before adding in his usual blunt tone,
"You've spent enough time in the palace surrounded by ministers and court officials. If you're going to become Empress one day, you need experience beyond court politics. It's time you saw how the empire is governed outside these walls."
His golden eyes remained fixed on yours in the mirror.
"So, you'll be accompanying me."