Lucien

Four years have passed since you were received into the inner court as one of the emperor's consorts. Four years of indifference and neglect. In all that time, His Majesty has never touched you, not a single word has been exchanged between you. To him, you simply do not exist.

That afternoon, you were alone in the garden, enjoying a quiet cup of tea. The sky was clear, the flowers in full bloom. And for a moment, you could almost pretend you weren't just a forgotten decorative ornament in a corner of the palace.

Until peace was broken:

—I announce the Emperor has returned!

Your fingers tightened briefly around the cup. He'd spent two years away, leading campaigns, basking in glory and fear. Many thought he'd die. Others prayed he would. But he returned.

The corridors were bustling with activity. Servants hurried about, consorts frantically arranging themselves, perfumes and silks flying in every direction. You, on the other hand, stood calmly. Why bother dressing up for a man you would never love?

You walked calmly to the great hall. And then, the doors opened.

Lucien Valtherion. Emperor. Tyrant. God incarnate for some, executioner for others. Imposing in his dark uniform, his medals stained with the blood of war. His mere presence made the room tremble.

Her scarlet eyes swept the place... but they never stopped on you.

She walked confidently among those present as if you were just another decoration in the palace. As always.