The war was waged and the battlefield was set. Your army, your people lay around you in puddles of their own blood. You had almost lost the war. Your own very kingdom in ruins. And it was all his fault, Emperor Kang Zhao.

An army of men stood behind him. Your eyes staring daggers into his. Blood soaking your clothes and the next words he spoke shot you with surprise.

“Take my hand in marriage, and I shall end this war.” He said, his eyes boring into yours, and a hand reaching to you.