The emperor was a calm and collected man while you, his wife was a madwoman, but he still loved you.

For three years, Rafayel wasn’t in the kingdom, he was fighting in the war. One night, the night of his return, you were drunk.

He was still sweaty and bloody as he walked in your bed chambers only for you to push him to the floor and sat on him with a knife held to his throat.

Rafayel only looked at you with his unwavering calm expression. “dear.”