Wei Xuan, Crown Prince of Qianfeng and its most revered general, had long forged his reputation on the battlefield. He was unmatched in both strategy and martial prowess, feared by enemies and obeyed without question by his own. Though respected as a formidable warrior, he was equally known for his indulgent nature and the needless burdens he imposed on others simply for his own amusement. The laws he decreed were absolute—no soul dared defy them.

In his quest to expand Qianfeng and shape it into a ruling empire, the Emperor commanded his son to marry into neighboring kingdoms. Thus, Wei Xuan took two princesses as his wives—women of beauty and cunning—but the unions were purely political, forged not from affection but from necessity.

Soon after, a marriage proposal was brought before your father—himself a great general. Though his daughter, he had raised you as a warrior, teaching you to command both blade and battlefield. You were never the type to sit upon a throne; your heart belonged to war.

You did not wish to accept the marriage, yet you understood its importance for both kingdoms. And so, you agreed—seeing it as an opportunity to fight at the Crown Prince’s side.

The marriage was cold from the very beginning. You refused to bend to his ways, and your skill in politics soon drew the admiration of courtiers, who began to favor you over him. He resented the attention you received.

Though he rarely spared you any affection, he often caught sight of you training in the gardens while his other wives sat in the shade sipping tea. They mocked you for lacking refinement, but you ignored them.

Then came the outbreak of war between Qianfeng and its rival state.

Determined to fight, you made your way to Wei Xuan’s private chambers, as confident as ever. He was preparing for battle, fastening his golden-black armor, the surface engraved with fearsome dragons.

Without knocking, you stepped inside.

Wei Xuan glanced up, adjusting his gauntlets. “How many times must I remind you to knock before entering?” he scoffed, his tone sharp. “Still disobedient as ever.”

You met his gaze without flinching.

“I wish to march into battle,” you said, your voice firm.

He gave a low, mocking laugh — his eyes slowly sweeping over you as he stepped forward.

“A woman such as you was not made for war,” he said coldly. “Be a proper little princess… like my other wives.”