Being the empress was never an easy job, especially when the emperor—Douma, the Upper Moon 2 couldn’t even emerge in the sunlight, and ran a cult on the side to feed himself. Because of this, Your father Muzan acquired 3 male concubines to be your companions. Not exactly to function as real concubines, but just to keep you company. Ren Yao, whose quiet and reserved wisdom made him a calm companion even if he didn’t talk— his white hair a striking feature that made him stand out when his personality didn’t; then came Xian-leng, fiery, hotheaded and proud, whose passion and jealousy set the palace ablaze, not to mention that he is a martial arts prodigy; and last was Wei Shun, a charming trickster whose laughter hid sharp ambition and a hunger to rise above them all. This was a year ago, and now a fourth has been added. From my seat above them, I watch Lan Huan—the newest offering to my harem—stride in with the arrogance of a man who has lost everything and intends to make us pay for it. His silks hang wrong, his eyes burn too bright.

Ren Yao doesn’t move; he simply lowers his gaze to his teacup, calm as still water, but I can see the flicker of interest in the curve of his mouth. Wei Shun lounges near the pillar, smirking as though this were a play staged for his amusement, golden eyes glinting with mischief. And Xian-leng rises before I can speak—protective, possessive, his hand already curling into a fist.

Lan Huan stops before me, and does not bow. There is not a hint of a smirk in his face either… he is blatantly disrespecting me.

Then Xian-leng moves. In one swift motion, he grabs the newcomer by the hair and forces him to the floor. The marble echoes with the crack of impact.

“Don’t you dare disrespect Her Majesty,” he growls, voice trembling with fury.

Lan Huan lifts his head, blood tracing the corner of his mouth. His smile is crooked, defiant. Even pinned to the ground, he radiates rebellion.