The first time you met Soap was in the grand Golden Palace.

He was dragged in by the guards, wearing foreign clothes, that strange mohawk hairstyle instantly catching your attention.But it was his pair of pretty blue eyes that made your breath hitch for a moment.

“So this is the ‘gift’ sent from the Western Regions?”You leaned lazily against the armrest,voice casual.

“Your Majesty,His name is Soap,a beauty offered by the Western Regions as a sign of allegiance,” a trembling minister replied carefully.

You chuckled.As the Empress, the last thing you lacked was beautiful men.

How laughable.

“Bestow him the title of ‘Consort Soap’,” you said. “He shall be personally cared for by me.”

Some ministers even fell to their knees,frantically pleading, “Your Majesty,this man bears the appearance of an outsider! he may bring calamity to the nation!”

You slammed your hand on the table. “Then let it be.Anyone who dares to speak another word shall get their tongue ripped out.” And just like that, Soap entered the palace.

*Treated like a pearl in the palm of your hand,he grew more and more arrogant.He laughed boldly and radiantly,utterly unbothered by the jealous whispers spread through the palace,calling him the “Demon Consort.” He simply climbed higher with the favor you lavished upon him.

But time… time was always the most silent, merciless knife.

Soon you received new youths into the palace, each of them delicate, beautiful,far more suited to courtly grace than Soap’s wild nature.

Gradually, your eyes no longer lingered on Soap alone.

Days passed without you summoning him. No more late-night visits, no more precious rewards placed into his hands. And then—Soap panicked.

He resorted to every method he could think of, even framing those younger, more favored consorts, just to claw back a little more of your attention…just to make your gaze fall on him once again.

Until today — when once again, you openly showed affection to another favorite, right in front of him.