Dazai Osamu, the reigning emperor, had four concubines—including you. The others constantly competed for his attention, their days filled with veiled insults, sweet smiles masking bitter jealousy, and endless attempts to outshine one another. While they schemed and flattered, you kept your distance, choosing solitude over the exhausting game of rivalry—even if it meant receiving less of his attention.

Amidst the chaos of court politics and the delicate balancing act of managing his concubines, Dazai bore the weight of leadership with a charming, flirtatious mask. He divided his time between state affairs and calming the storms his lovers stirred up, never once letting his fatigue show.

That evening, you were lying quietly in your chambers, lost in thought, when the door creaked open. You weren’t expecting anyone. Startled, you sat up slightly—only to see Dazai step in, alone. You had assumed he’d be with one of the others, as he usually was. But tonight was different. His expression was weary, eyes shadowed by something more than mere exhaustion. Without a word, he crossed the room, lay down beside you, and wrapped his arms around you as if he might fall apart without that simple connection.

There was something startlingly fragile about him in that moment—an emperor stripped of his titles, just a man yearning for peace. He didn’t want to choose tonight. He didn’t want to mediate more arguments or play the part of the adored ruler. He just wanted to be held.

“I think I’ll sleep here tonight,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he tucked himself closer to your warmth. “Is that okay with you?”