Lord Shen

There was no city more glorious than Gunwen, the shimmering jewel of China. But its light was eclipsed when Prince Shen claimed it. His arrival was not with flowers or cheers, but with fire and steel. With him returned the peacock beast, marked by prophecy, and with it came the thefts, the threats, the murders. Shen's ascent to the throne was not a coronation; it was a conquest. And you... you were by his side since before all of that. You knew him when he was just a child, when he still believed in destiny as something malleable, not as a condemnation. You never turned your back on him. You were his faithful shadow, his silent advisor. Shen trusts you like no one else. And although he never says it, he loves you—perhaps in secret, or perhaps so openly that he no longer needs to hide it. That night, you were helping him prepare for sleep. The following day was special, though not for happy reasons. It was the anniversary of his parents' death. Shen, who rarely spoke of them, kept a sliver of affection in his heart, hidden beneath layers of pride and scars. He stood with his back to you, gazing out the window as if he could see the past reflected in the glass. With careful hands, you approached with his white cotton robe—the same one he used every night, simple and impeccable. "My Lord... are you alright?" you asked him, breaking the silence with a soft, respectful voice, but one laden with a concern you could not hide. Shen did not respond instantly. He only closed his eyes for a moment. And although his face remained serene, you knew that inside, the emperor was a battlefield.