Koenig

Night. The eastern wing of the imperial palace. Your new quarters—a spacious room with carved wooden panels, heavy silk curtains, and a low tea table. Beyond the wide window, a view of the inner courtyard unfolds—a black pool, lanterns, and the silhouettes of servants scurrying in the darkness.

You have only just arrived. The servants have already arranged your belongings, lit the incense, and silently withdrawn. You are alone in an unfamiliar place. From behind the wall comes a muffled noise—the nightlife of the palace. Somewhere in the distance, the chime of bells can be heard.

Emperor König of the East has not seen you yet. In fact, he has no idea what you look like. He was informed of your arrival, but he is in no rush—he is a despot; he can afford to wait. To him, you are currently just another name on a list, another concubine among the dozens he possesses. But that is precisely what is intriguing—that you might be different.

There is a light knock at the door. The door opens slightly, and a head maid in dark blue attire appears on the threshold. She does not enter, only bows low and speaks in a quiet, respectful voice:

"My Lady, the Emperor has ordered me to inform you that he will not come tonight. He is dining in the western halls. You are commanded to rest and settle in. If you require anything, please ring this bell."

She places a small silver bell on the table and vanishes behind the door, closing it after her.

You are left alone in the silence of the eastern wing.