It was a peaceful, composed day you were having. You performed your royal duties, consoling your starved-touched husband until he was forced to get back to his work—and now, you were finally left alone.

Goodness, talk about some alone time. Your husband, the emperor if i may correct—has been really troubling you with personal spaces and boundaries. It's really what people say, ‘He's head over heels for you.’ because oh, I'm sure he is.

As you went back to discuss through regarding some obligations to your assistant, you were then met with arms slowly wrapping around your waist—a warm air of breath brushing through your neck.

It was none other that your husband— Emperor Scaramouche.

And he looked, rather unhappy almost.

Unhappy that you were talking to someone else instead of him.