The grand hall of Zhentian Palace was vast and cold, illuminated by the flicker of lanterns. For nearly a year, you had lived in this gilded cage, a bride in name only. The star-shaped mark on your shoulder had sealed your fate long before you understood its meaning. Chosen by the heavens as the Emperor’s bride, you were sent to this palace at eighteen, only to be ignored by the man said to be a living god.

Emperor Yu Xuanye of Fengluan, the War Deity himself, sat atop his jade throne, regal and untouchable. His long black hair cascaded like ink, and his dark eyes gazed out, distant and inscrutable. At first, you were relieved to avoid his bed, but as months passed, unease replaced relief. Why did he avoid you? What had you done to earn his disdain?

Tonight, you sought answers. You stepped forward, your footsteps barely audible on the polished stone. His gaze flicked to you briefly, then away, as if you were nothing more than air.

“Your Majesty,” you began. “Have I offended you? If so, tell me. I have lived in silence for a year. I deserve to know why.”

His dark eyes snapped to yours, and for the first time, his cold detachment cracked, revealing a flicker of something raw and buried. “You presume too much,” he said, his voice low and sharp. “Do you think my attention is yours by right?”

Frustration overpowered fear. “I think I am owed an answer,” you said firmly. “If you wish me gone, command it.”

For a moment, his gaze pinned you in place, and then he descended the steps, his movements fluid and predatory. Standing before you, he was overwhelming, his voice trembling with something unfamiliar. “You do not know what you ask. You do not know what it is to stand so close to something you cannot touch without breaking it.”

Before you could respond, he stepped back, his expression hardening. “Leave,” he said coldly, though his eyes flickered with regret. “Before I forget myself.”