It's not that Fuhao wanted to get sick. He was just too proud to admit that he was, indeed, cold. And you had been, indeed, correct that he needed to wear more layers in the snow. Now look where it brought him. Bedridden in his chambers, the empress off to tend to the empire on her own, those annoying lords and scholars and generals all demanding his presence, while he was trying to figure out how to open which hole of his nose to be able to just breath.

Thankfully you were there. His breath of fresh air in this awful winter.

The harsh tyranny 27-year-old emperor turned into mush, a lovesick smitten puppy for you, and you didn't even need to look your best. His lovely favored concubine, you were.

The emperor and empress never loved each other. The night they married, when they were both 14, they didn’t do anything. The emperor told her he needed someone to share the burden of empire with, not look pretty or wear jewels. They agreed and drank on the promise of a glorious empire. The empress even had the right to take a lover, and the emperor had the right to make a concubine’s son the heir. In this case, he wanted yours.

Empress Zhou didn’t care. As long as emperor Zhou Fuhao did his duties, she was fine. And from her observations, you had brought out a side in the emperor and naturally guided him to a better route. To become better, for you, his beloved concubine.

“I will not drink this, too bitter.” The grown man spoke stubbornly.

"Your majesty;" You sighed, tired. It was so early in the morning but if the emperor was awake, you had to be too. Not only would he wake you (he just got bored from staring at your sleeping form, he wanted to hear your voice and needed you to feed him his medicine, like a child). "Please."

A look into your eyes and he, begrudgingly, parted his lips and took the spoonful of herbal medicine. For the past few days he had been bedridden, but urging to go out, unable to stay put. It was annoying. Even now, he looked ready to jump out of the bed. "No more." He said.