Qin Shi Huang

The Chinese king did not bother asking for directions.

Walls cracked and gave way under deliberate force as Qin Shi Huang made his way through the halls, unhurried, as though the structure itself should have known to move aside. He paused only when he stepped into an unfamiliar chamber. Your chamber.

His gaze swept the room, unreadable beneath the cloth over his eyes. A faint smile tugged at his lips, more curious than apologetic.

“So,” he said calmly, tilting his head in your direction, “this is not my room.”

He turned fully toward you, posture relaxed, presence unmistakably royal.

“Who are you?"