#man who stole the sun

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[funstealer]

The Man Who Stole the Sun (1979) Poster by Tadanori Yokoo

[honeygleam]

the man who stole the sun (1979) dir. hasegawa kazuhiko

[gifmovie]

[filmap]

太陽を盗んだ男 / The Man Who Stole the Sun Kazuhiko Hasegawa. 1979

Concert Nippon Budokan, 2-3 Kitanomarukoen, Chiyoda City, Tokyo 102-8321, Japan See in map

See in imdb

[shihlun]

Kiyoshi Kurosawa as "Suspect on TV News" in The Man Who Stole the Sun (1979) directed by Kazuhiko Hasegawa.

[vonkarma2]

tenemos lupin y zenigata en casa

[laser-z-beam]

Ultraman Leo's on!

[shanopng]

vibe for 1.5 hours and then commit crimes

[iorast]

// fixing tags pls hold

[cabramso]

watched more good movies last month >:D

[rzdhc]

movie was a little questionable like wtf but I enjoyed it

[itachiiwrites]

Love me, love me, love me, love me more!

Pairing: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings and Content: MDNI (I'll haunt you, seriously), yandere themes, implied consent, stalking, obsession, murder, gore, sex, delusional satoru, he's unhinged and does not care about consequences as usual, creampies (lots), gojo has a breeding kink, masturbation, perv gojo, sex, fingering. Dead dove.

Plot : Megumi has a new nanny and Satoru is so so..lovesick.

Yandere!Satoru knew he fumbled the moment he fell in love with Megumi's nanny. He had hired you because he couldn't provide for the time and sufficient emotional care that a second grader needed to be a normal person. After all that the boy went through and then being under care of someone like him, Satoru didn't think that his Gumi-chan would ever be normal.

But then he met you, you were everything he was not. Gojo Satoru was impulsive, eccentric, the strongest, he shone so brightly that the sun was put to shame. And you were so normal, so mundane, you simply seemed to blend in with everyone like a lovely, plain chrysanthemum that could mix in with every bouquet.

there was truly nothing special about you in comparison to him.

Perhaps that was why he found you so beautiful. You weren't complicated, you were too simple and perhaps this absence of simplicity was what made his fast paced, glorious life so lack luster.

He knew he had to have you.

One thing you realised about Yandere!Satoru is that, he is a child in a grown man's body. You had seen him being much more petulant than Megumi, but with time your surmises around him had reduced and your edges had softened. You would see the flash of tiredness in his eyes sometimes, something about those azures in those moments would tell you a piece of his story. You didn't ask a lot but you knew. He was tired.

Being a full-time nanny to Megumi also meant, keeping meal preps ready. It had become a habit to put together a few extras after noticing that Gojo would often make it a point to eat them. He probably ate it, dead in the night when he was back from his daily missions. No one witnessed his joy of eating a homecooked meal at 3AM.

Yandere!Satoru who would take the advantage of your softened demeanor towards him and flirt with you shamelessly even after seeing the ring adorned on your pretty little finger. He kept affirming to himself that it wasn't real and whatever he would imagine, would materialize to be true.

"You do a terrific job, looking after Megumi you know?" He'd muse, in the usual teasing tone of his as his hand trails to your chin, gently tipping your head up so you'd look into his eyes and his eyes only, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"I can't help but wonder if there is room in your heart for me too~"

But then his playful demeanor would drop away when his eyes would fall onto that pathetic, miserly looking gold band after you'd tell him to stop flirting with you with finality in your tone. That ring wasn't even high in carats, it was an alloy and yet you would it wear it such pride. It would tug at his heartstrings, his darling deserved so much better.

"I see, didn't realize that, miss.." He lied through his teeth with such insouciance and a smirk, masking his disappointment as if even a petite speck on your arm would be amiss with his six eyes

Yandere!Satoru, who was never religious but started obsessively manifesting you after learning about your husband. What a hassle. Why couldn't he just have you, like everything else in his life?

Yandere!Satoru who would think of you riding him to tears, closing his eyes to conjure the lewd image of your tits bouncing as he fucked you upward, anchoring his large hands on your waist. All while zestfully fisting his cock, wrapped like a gift with your cute pink panties that he quite subtly stole when you were staying over to care for Megumi for a few days because he had to fly somewhere else to tackle off a special grade curse, substituted for the warmth of your velvety walls. For now.

Yandere!Satoru who knew you had no clue that he teleported from the location far away just to steal your panties.

Yandere!Satoru who also knew that you had no idea that he had tapped in your phone, having his hawking watch over who you texted and talked to.

Yandere!Satoru who couldn't be nonchalant anymore the minute he saw you texting your husband as you watched over Megumi, on how badly you wanted a baby after being a nanny to the young boy. That was his job, you were his, afterall.

Yandere!Satoru who felt angry and stupid because manifesting you didn't work. He knew he could never trust the higher powers with the people he loved so he took the matter in his own hands.

Yandere!Satoru who stood over your husband's dead body, ripped to shreds when you returned home. The worries of your husband not texting you back for hours now washed with horror and pain.

His handsome, angelic face was unnervingly calm and composed, his blue eyes amalgamated with mania and hollowness while he held her husband's filthy heart in his bloodied hands, a scowl of disgust washing over his face as he looked at the organ, darting his eyes at you almost pitifully, crushing it in a glimpse before walking to you.

"What a shame..your husband was quite bothersome, wouldn't you say? I had to take out the trash, y'know..got sick of him getting in the way" He'd speak in a smooth, saccharinely affectionate tone that you knew was empty. He ignored the shock laced on your face, the paleness of your skin, the fear in your eyes and your flinch which he found oh so..adorable, as he caressed your cheek with the strong metallic scent of crimson lingering.

"Let's play a game!" He brightly smiled, clapping his hands together which made you furrow your brows, a dry gulp going down your throat. The room only filled with the momentary sounds of his footsteps and your shaky, palpable breathing.

"The game is...name things you love about Gojo Satoru!!" He chimed, so happily that it sent a shiver down your spine, insinuating nausea.

"S-stay away..."

He frowned, titling his head as his empty eyes bored into yours.

"Wrong answer darling..the answer is Satoru, isn't it..?" He leaned in, cupping your face and tenderly kissing your lips.

Yandere!Satoru who teleported you two immediately to his estate as he pulled away from the kiss, your back hitting the silk sheets that screamed luxury.

Yandere!Satoru who would see you giving in to his gentle kisses all over your body, who'd feel your pulsating guilt and shame in your eyes while your pussy pulsated with pleasure having his fingers in your gushing cunt knuckles deep.

"Why did you say no to me, hm..? You're milking my fingers baby..fuuuck...I love you so much.." He whispered while his face nuzzled into your cheek. His hot breath mingled with phrases of love felt so gross, so filthy, so sinful but you saw yourself liking it, even after seeing your husband in such a state.

Yandere!Satoru, who'd dump his cum again in your oozing pussy even when his cock felt raw after kissing your cervix so many times, painting it white. Now finally pulling out with a squelch, he immediately replaced his two thick fingers to push his load back in.

"You're gonna be such a pretty mama baby..I will make your wish come true.."

©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

Plagiarism not authorised. Please consider reblogging and liking if you enjoyed the content :)

More on m.list!

[honeygleam]

the plutonium lab in the man who stole the sun (1979) dir. kazuhiko kasegawa

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi finding out you pretended to be a boy in order to get trained properly and him falling head over heels for you after

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: If there's one thing you always hated, it was being underestimated. Because you're nothing but a petite girl in the eyes of every other demon slayer you stumbled upon with even the sound hashira going easy on you. They left you no choice but to pretend that you're a boy in order to finally get the training you deserve. Little did you know it will be the wind hashira himself who uncovers your dirty secret...

Warnings: it's Sanemi so language, the bonus scene is for those of you who are in desperate need of some spice (no direct smut), last part not proofread because this needs to be published and I'm tired lol

Thank you sooo much for that super cool request, @xxx-oneofthegirls-xxx, I hope you like what I came up with (also, you made me listen to one of the girls nonstop while writing this hehe)

You stare at your foreign reflection in the mirror, cheeks still burning. This looks ridiculous and you know it, your plan so plain and stupid that you regret your decision more and more with each passing second.

But you have to do this.

“Don’t overwork yourself, (y/n). You’ll rest here while the others run a few extra miles.”

“But Tengen-sama, I-“

“Here, let’s get you something to eat!”, Suma cried out.

“You’re overworking that poor woman, Tengen-sama”, Mako commented dryly.

“I already told her to take a break!”

Because without pretending that you’re a boy, they’ll never take you seriously. Not when you’re a petite girl, not when everyone treats you like porcelain because of your small frame and gender. You came her because you’re ready to fight, because being a demon slayer is your true destiny. You want to get trained hard, you urge to surpass yourself each and every day.

You stare at your eyes filled with determination in the mirror. Therefore, you need to make sure they see nothing but a normal boy in you. 

It’s hard to breathe properly with countless bandages tied around your chest in order to hide your feminine curves to their eyes. Carefully, you tie a ribbon around the ends of your hair and pull them up. Good, now your hair is about shoulder-length. A plain hairband that is convincing enough as a sweat band turns your usual longer hair into a temporary short cut.

Is this enough? Will the mist hashira actually believe you?

Confidently, you change into the uniform you stole from a boy nearby earlier and grab your katana. There is no other way than finding out.

“Where’s that little girl? Didn’t Tengen-sama allow her to continue?”

“Huh, you mean the little wallflower? I bet she gave up when she saw what hashira training really means. She wasn’t even strong enough to hold a sword.”

Your heart drops to the floor while your eyes automatically look down in panic and distress. Everyone underestimates you over the sheer fact that you’re a girl. But why? Why would you give up? Why is everyone thinking you aren’t strong enough when women like Shinobu Kocho show them how it’s done? You didn’t train since you were 4 to get reduced to your gender and height.

No, you’ll show them soon enough how good you really are and that you’re no one to be messed with.

“Look at him!”

“Who is that guy?”

“He fights as good as Tanjiro!”

“I’ve never seen him around. Do you know him?”

And you did. Training after training, hashira after hashira. Somehow, you surpassed them all. Despite your small frame, your disadvantage towards the boys with their ability to move freely in the scorching hot sun, you made it.

“It seems like you’re decent handling your sword. I have no use for you here anymore”, Obanai proclaims dryly.

You…you did it? You’ve been here for 3 days, spent the first day tied to a wall while getting smacked by some useless comrades. But you really convinced him, the serpent hashira, the man a lot of the others were so afraid of.

Your heart jumps up and down in excitement. You convinced him.

“Thank you”, you mumble in reply with deepened voice.

“Let’s see how you’ll keep up with Shinazugawa. Now get lost.”

Shinazugawa? You’ve heard that name before. Is this…the wind hashira? Your eyes widen as you sprint down the forest in the merciless sun. If Iguro Obanai is considered rough, Sanemi Shinazugawa has to be a menace. You heard from countless slayers that went back home as soon as they arrived at his estate, some beaten up so badly that they needed treatment.

For days.

You swallow hard. If this man finds out that you’re not who you pretend to be, you’ll be dead. But you have no other choice. After everything you’ve been through, you won’t give up because of the wind hashira’s bad reputation.

“How’s training going?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring into the distance.

“All of them are trash. There’s only one that is decent, though”, Obanai replies dryly.

“Don’t tell me it’s that Kamado brat-“

“No, I’ve never seen that boy before. No one seems to know who he is. He’s pretty small for his age and acts even weirder than the others but I can’t deny that he’s skilled. Even Kanroji…praised him”, Obanai presses out.

He’ll definitely never forget you for taking up the space of a full hand-written site in her note to him.

“You all went too easy on him, then. I’ll mop the floor with his ass when he gets to me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. There it is, the estate of the wind hashira. Only him and the stone hashira are left. Only these two until you’re able to drop your false identity and use your newest skills in a real fight. When you’re done here, you’ll finally be able to protect your village properly. No demon will ever hurt your friends and family again.

You just have to get through a few more days of training. A few more days with the wind hashira…

-two days later-

“Get lost, brats”, Sanemi barks out in sheer frustration.

Are these losers really supposed to be useful in a fight against Kibutsuji? They aren’t even good enough to hold their wooden sword correctly, let alone find the right stance to fight. God, this is such a waste of time, so fucking annoying that he smashes his own wooden sword into the ground roughly.

“Fucking useless rabble”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

When his blurry sight catches yours, he’s even more infuriated. He really thought the other pillars were too gentle with you. You, with your thin and small frame, with your innocent eyes that almost make you look like a girl. And while you look like the biggest loser of this whole corps, you manage to fight better than all the others.

“Enough of this bullshit, we’re using real swords now”, Sanemi barked at you while already grabbing his sharp katana.

“Fine.”

You didn’t storm towards him, didn’t act out of confidence or rage. You stayed so calm that Sanemi didn’t know how to act for the split of a second.

The split of a second. This minor moment was enough for you to lift your blade and scratch his cheek ever so slightly.

“Did he…Just hit the wind hashira?”

“This can’t be true. A strange guy like him, hitting one of the most powerful demon slayers?”

“You…You have some fucking nerve, little brat! I’ll make you pay for this!”

Oh, how often he tormented you. Made you stand up in the middle of the night for a fight, forced you to stand up against all your comrades. He pushed you over your limit over and over, made you suffer in a way he never did before.

But you still stand your ground. Still, you grab your wooden sword and follow the others inside at dawn as if nothing happened.

And it simply drives him insane.

“You, little brat!”

“Yes, Shinazugawa-sama?”

Your guts turn in an instant. In contrast to the other hashira training, this feels like a trip to hell and back. It almost seems as if the wind hashira made it his mission to let you suffer more than anyone else. What have you done to deserve his anger? Did you act out of line, aloof? It has to be the fact that you injured his cheek during your fight…

“Never mind. Get out of my sight.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. Instantly, you turn on your heels and make your way to dinner. Maybe you’ll finally have to chance to wash yourself tonight. With all those unexpected training sessions and the wind hashira torturing you until far past midnight, you didn’t even find the time to take a bath. Urgh, you can’t wait to finally take those bandages off and to wash your itchy scalp. All that sweating without the relief of a jump in the cool lake nearby is definitely hard to endure.

But tonight. Tonight you’ll finally get the chance to escape the merciless gaze of Sanemi Shinazugawa.

He doesn’t know what keeps him up tonight. Is it the full moon that lights his room, his still enraged heart? It’s still hard to believe that you’re acting up like this, that you manage to hit him. Out of all the jerks he trained, why does it have to be the smallest and therefore weakest one?

Maybe all he needs is letting his anger out on you. Sanemi storms into the dormitory wearing nothing but a casual yukata. He might hunt you around the lake for a few rounds or lets you practice your sword bows until you turn blue-

But his eyes don’t get greeted by your hair sticking out underneath you’re blanket.

“Where the hell are you, brat?”, he hisses to himself.

“This feels like heaven”, you moan to yourself while you dip your head into the cool water.

You never cared about getting covered in mud or dried blood sticking to your skin. But oh, the feeling of cleaning yourself up again after a rough day is just unmatched. Gently, your fingers brush through your wet hair, free yourself from all the dirt of those last days.

When will you be able to return? After that, only the stone hashira is left. How did you manage to land all the way over here? Hiding behind the identity of a boy no one know in order to get treated equally. Your efforts were definitely worth it. With those countless new techniques you’ve learned, you’ll finally be able to stand up against the demons that haunt down your village on a regular basis. Finally, you’ve got the education you deserved.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

All color drains from your face in an instant. You don’t have to look past his knees to know who stays right in front of you. Why didn’t you hear him coming? How did he manage to show up in front of you without you noticing?

“S-Shinazuwaga-sama”, you breathe out.

It doesn’t matter how he found you. With your hair open and your upper body barely covered by the water, he already saw through your well-hidden secret. Or better said, your lie.

“You’re so dead.”

You can’t escape. In the matter of seconds, he is with you in the water and grabs your wrists roughly.

“You lied into our faces this whole time?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I had to-“

“You’re nothing but a little girl!”

“You left me-“

“What else do you have to hide? Are you even a demon slayer? I’m totally in the mood to kill you right on the spot-“

“YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE”, you finally blurt out.

“No choice? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Tengen-sama treated me like porcelain because I’m a woman, but I didn’t want that! I wanted to train like the boys do, I wanted to suffer like everyone else! How am I supposed to become a decent swordswoman when everyone goes easy on me because of my gender!?”

“You…You lied to us.”

“I did.”

“You aren’t a guy.”

“I’m not.”

Thick silence hangs between both of you, only interrupted by sharp and heavy breaths. What now? Will he send you away in dishonor or even worse, exclude you from the corps completely? You’ve worked so hard to even get accepted, poured your heart and soul into those past days. All of this, vanishing in thin air?

“Please don’t send me away”, you finally press out.

“Are you dumb? Ain’t no way I’m letting you stay-“

“I can’t return home in dishonor. I did all of this to be able to protect my family and village. If I return home like this…”

You can’t finish your sentence, your throat suddenly feeling so tight that you even fail to breathe.

“Get out of my sight.”

“But I-“

“I said get out of my sight!”, he screams on top of his lungs.

You flinch backwards and almost trip into the water. Talking doesn’t do much. If you’re not leaving the next few seconds, he might drown you.

With a heavy heart you leave the water, carefully hiding behind a tree until you’re fully dressed again.

“What’s your real name?”, he shouts towards you harshly.

“My name is (y/n)”, you mutter, not daring to look into his cold eyes.

And then you stumble back. Back into the dormitory you know so well by now. Back into what might be the last night at the demon slayer corps for you.

“Remember that skilled guy you told me about?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring at the ground.

“Yeah. What about him?”

“It’s not him. She’s a fucking girl that pretended to be a guy.”

It still feels like a feverish dream. Why did nobody realize sooner? Not even himself…God, he’s such an idiot for not throwing you out instantly. You lied straight into his face, you lied to the whole demon slayer corps all this time. You deserve to leave, you deserve all that hatred and disgust.

“That’s actually quite impressive. How did you find out?”, Obanai comments dryly.

“I caught her bathing. Said she didn’t want to get differently because she’s a girl.”

Just the thought of seeing you there lit by nothing but moonlight, your long hair draped like a veil around you and your female curves he didn’t even know existed…

“That are some unexpected news. Do the others know?”

“I won’t tell ‘em. I’ll kick her out the corps when I return.”

“Why kicking her out? No matter if boy or girl, you can’t deny she’s the most promising one until now. Why not keeping her?”

“Keeping her?”, Sanemi repeats in sheer disbelief.

“Ain’t no way I’ll ever speak to a filthy little liar like her again.”

“Her plan worked, though. And I hate to admit it, but she did pretty good.”

Sanemi’s furious eyes dart towards Obanai in nothing but frustration. You fooled every single hashira until now. You hold so much potential that eventually…Would you survive as his tsugoko?

“I’ll leave”, he finally speaks out before turning his back on Obanai and storming away.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

How utterly dumb you feel sitting on that porch with your wet hair still open in the cool breeze far past midnight. You have no idea where he went, if he’s out to inform the head of the corpse about your behavior or even worse, your own family. Is it too early to pack your few belongings, to leave before he comes back? You definitely can’t stand another round of getting yelled at by the wind hashira.

“What are you doing here outside, brat?”

Fuck. He steps out of the darkness like an unpromising shadow with his face as hard as stone.

“I can’t sleep anyway”, you murmur.

“I’m so fucking mad at you for shitting me like this. Pretending you’re a guy while you’re just a girl.”

“I’m not just a girl”, you clarify sharply.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re a lying little brat but-“

He takes a deep breath in while sitting down next to you.

“But you’ve got what it takes. I’ve been looking for a decent tsugoko for quite some time now and-“

You can’t believe your ears. This man can’t possibly be the wind hashira you know by now, the man who looked like he’ll drown you any minute just a few hours ago. He can’t suggest to take you in as his tsugoko, right? There’s absolutely no way this man wants to train you on a regular basis-

“And maybe you’re that decent fit.”

Oh.

“Me, as your tsugoko”, you repeat his words in order to make them sound real.

“I’ll still kick your ass for lying into my face like that, though”, he adds aggressively.

Never in your life would you ever dreamed of being the apprentice of a hashira. You always worked hard, always made sure to develop your skills with everything you do, but being considered a tsugoko? Of the wind hashira, who never takes in a student? Who seems so rough and cruel but allowed you to handle your katana even better?

“I’d love that”, you finally breathe out.

“I’m beyond thankful you’re e-“

“Shut up immediately. A yes is enough. You’ll stay here with me, then.”

“Y-yes, Shinazugawa-sama!”

“No go to sleep, I can’t beat your ass when you’re tired”, he mumbles before getting up and leaving while your feelings are still over the place.

You, the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

-a few months later-

“Gimme your best shot now, brat!”, he barks at you.

Sweat runs down your forehead like a waterfall, your heavy panting tasting like blood. Just one more hit, one more strike and you’ll get him.

“Thunder breathing, fourth form-“

“Too slow”, he comments next to your ear.

Within the split of a second, you find yourself just inches away from the dirty ground with Sanemi’s arms keeping you from falling.

“Still not fast enough. Do it again.”

Mindlessly, he still drops you into the dirt with his sword casually draped over his shoulder.

You lift yourself off the ground with trembling limbs. There you are again, deep within your trip to hell and back. What you expected when agreeing on being the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

You grab the handle of your sword even tighter and storm towards just like you did hundreds of times before with the smallest of smiles creeping up your features.

Well, exactly that.

-steaming hot bonus: meeting in the lake at night-

You allow the cool water to caress your countless wounds gently. How good it feels to finally bathe every single day instead of once every few days. When the truth came out and everyone started to realize that you aren’t a boy, you regained a part of your freedom along with the merciless training of the wind hashira. Each and every day, he tortured you and others with his cruel training methods before you slide into the lake before the sun sets and go straight back to sleep.

Not today, though. It has to be almost midnight by now, the stars in the sky glimmering so magnificent that you can’t look away. Sanemi allowed you to visit your family and friends today. As you have learned, demon attacks have subsided since the sister of Tanjiro Kamado mastered the sun. And even though that means your loved ones will be safe, you can’t deny the slight turn of your guts. This means a war is around the corner, that Muzan Kibutsuji himself might come for all of you.

But this is nothing you should think about now. Not when you just returned and desperately longed for a bath. You dip your head into the cold water, moan to yourself as the water surrounds you fully-

“What the hell are you doing here, brat?”

Sanemi.

Out of instinct you cry out while burying everything except for your head inside the dark water. You’re butt-naked. How long has he been here already? And…has he seen you? Suddenly your whole body feels hot against the cool water around, cheeks turning dark red.

“Calm down, idiot-“

“How long have you been here already!?”

“What? I’m always taking a bath around this time. You’re the one who shouldn’t be here”, he clarifies dryly.

There he stands. Droplets of water run down his bare chest and almost make him shimmer in the moonlight. His wet hair stick to his face so delicately that you can’t force yourself to look away. He looks…hot.

Hot?

“I-uh…I just returned from…home”, you stutter.

“Hope your family is fine”, he mumbles along with slicking his hair back.

Within these past months, you’ve caught a glimpse of Sanemi you’ve never witnessed before. This man isn’t as cruel as everybody makes him look, his words aren’t always meant as harsh as they sound. Sanemi has a very tender side. Especially when his eyes soften for the blink of a moment, you couldn’t help but feel lost.

“They are. Apparently, the incidents with demons involved lessened when I departed”, you press out.

God, you’re acting ridiculous and you know it. Sanemi is your teacher, your training partner. Even though you’re living under the same roof (he even gave you an own room), there aren’t any romantical feelings between both of you.

“Good to hear. I’ll let you rest a little tomorrow morning. You have to be dead tired.”

“I’m fine”, you lie in an instant.

Truth is, you’re so drained out that the water is the only thing that’s able to keep your knees for failing you at the moment. Not only from your journey, but all those countless harsh training sessions, dueling yourself over and over with Sanemi and the others. But you’d never admit it, would never say it out loud.

“You’re probably the baddest liar out there. Your cheeks are red as hell, (y/n)”, Sanemi comments dryly.

You don’t dare to move when he stretches out his hand. Enough to gently caress your cheek, enough to cause an explosion in your stomach.

Did Sanemi just touch you? Tenderly?

“I…N-no…I…”

You can’t find the words. In fact, you are too distracted to care about something like words. Slowly but surely, he draws closer with his perfectly formed chest exposed to your hungry eyes.

“(y/n), I…There’s actually something I wanted…Well…Fuck!”

Is that really Sanemi Shinazugawa, stumbling over his own words? And why is it him who’s blushing at the moment?

These past few months made it really easy for you to actually respect the wind hashira. Not only his frightful skills when handling the sword, but just him. Him, when he’s brushing the fur of the cat that visits his estate from time to time. Him, when he tucks you into your blanket when assuming you’re already asleep. Him, when checking on you in his own unique way.

How ridiculous to even think about him like that, to even allow your heart to jump up and down in joy. But you can’t help yourself. Despite the way you despised him when the two of you first met, you really started to love this man with all your heart.

“(y/n), you’re a pretty decent women”, he begins again while drawing closer.

“Well, I…Thank you?”

A decent woman? Is that what he thinks about you?

“I still can’t believe you lied to me about being a girl, though”, he barks at you.

Oh.

You hate the way your heart drops. Were you really dumb enough so think he might have something to say, that he might tell you he has feelings for you as well? How ridiculous, how absolutely dumb.

“I think I should get going. It’s been a long day”, you mumble.

It’s probably the best to get away from here as soon as possible. But just when you start moving towards the shore, his hand grabs your arm tightly and twirls you around.

Right against his bare chest.

“Don’t you dare leaving now, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I…there’s something I wanna tell you…”

“Why are you acting like a child?”, you finally spit at him yourself.

Oh, you’re having enough of all those ups and downs. Especially today, when you’re totally drained out already. You really don’t have the nerve for him to pick on you again, not when his last statement lies like a heavy stone in your stomach-

“Acting like a child?”, he challenges you.

Just before his lips crash into yours.

Longingly, Sanemi wraps his strong arms around you, devours you against his body while all you’re able to do is holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

This…is really happening, right? This is really Sanemi, pressing his lips against yours over and over again while your naked skin brushes against his?

“You’re fucking driving me insane, brat”, he mumbles against your lips before grabbing you even tighter.

“Since the moment I realized you aren’t a boy.”

He grabs you by your waist firmly, your naked skin rubbing against his sixpack almost making you lose everything that’s left of your self-control.

“I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your hands wander around his biceps, feel the deep valleys of his muscular back. God, this feels so good – almost too good to be true. But even if this is nothing but a dream, you’ll enjoy every minor movement, every sweet moment until you open your eyes again.

But when you do, you don’t find yourself in the comforting darkness of your room. No, his eyes glimmer like molten iron when staring down at you in the moonlight, his hot breath brushing against your wet face so seductive that you threaten to lose your balance.

“Still saying I’m acting like a child, brat?”

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Falling for the Sun in a Cold Empire || Kalim Al-Asim

You lose everything you've worked after getting transported to the novel that you read when you were a teenager after a freak accident. As the villainess.

It's time to rebuild yourself, one step at a time with a little help from Kalim Al-Asim, your betrothed.

This one isn't as silly as the rest, I hope y'all still like it

Series Masterlist

The bar was bustling with the lively sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and music. It was the kind of place that invited camaraderie, a perfect spot for celebrating the latest success your team had pulled off. You were surrounded by your colleagues, all in high spirits. The project you had all worked tirelessly on had finally paid off, and the sense of accomplishment was almost palpable.

Someone had insisted on buying another round, and before you knew it, shots were being passed around. You weren't normally one to indulge too much, but tonight was an exception. After all the stress and sleepless nights, you deserved to relax a little.

“Cheers to us!” someone shouted, and everyone raised their glasses, laughter rippling through the group.

You smiled, genuinely feeling the warmth of the moment. There was something about the shared joy of victory that made the exhaustion worthwhile. You took a sip of your drink, eyes drifting across the room to see your colleagues—people who had become something like a second family over the months of grueling work.

But then you noticed one of your colleagues.

He looked like someone who’d already had a bit too much, was stumbling his way towards the exit, mumbling something about needing fresh air. His unsteady gait set off alarm bells in your mind, and without a second thought, you set your drink down and quickly followed after him.

“Hey!” you called out, catching up to him just as he pushed open the heavy door to the outside. The cool night air hit your face, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bar. “You okay, man? Maybe you should sit down for a bit.”

He waved you off, a lopsided grin on his face. “Nah, I’m fine! Just need… air,” he slurred, his steps veering towards the curb.

You frowned, reaching out to grab his arm gently. “Come on, let’s get you back inside. It’s not safe—”

Suddenly, he pulled away, stumbling further into the road. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The flash of headlights, the blaring horn, his eyes widening in confusion as the truck bore down on him.

Your body moved on instinct. Without thinking, you lunged forward, shoving your colleague out of the way. The last thing you heard was the deafening screech of tires, the rush of adrenaline flooding your veins as the realization hit.

There was no time to move.

The impact came with a force that stole your breath, pain radiating through your body before everything went dark.

The world faded away, the laughter and warmth of the bar replaced by an all-encompassing silence.

You woke up slowly, the world around you blurred and unfamiliar. There was an ache in your body, a heavy sort of weariness that made every small movement a struggle. You blinked, trying to clear your vision, your head pounding as if it was caught between a vice.

The first thing you noticed was the ceiling. It was wooden, beams running across it, the kind of architecture that seemed straight out of a period drama. You frowned, your eyes narrowing in confusion.

Where were you? This wasn’t the hospital—there were no sterile white walls, no beeping monitors. And the bed… It was hard, almost uncomfortably so, and you could feel the scratchy fabric of the sheets beneath you.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up, the unfamiliar weight of the clothes you were wearing making you pause. They were heavy, the fabric rough against your skin. You looked down, taking in the sight of the dress you were wearing—long, old-fashioned, and visibly worn. The sleeves were frayed, and the fabric itself looked like it had seen better days, like something out of a historical novel.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. The room around you was small, cramped, the furniture sparse and outdated. It was then that you noticed the mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. You stood, your legs shaky beneath you, and made your way towards it.

The face staring back at you wasn’t your own.

You swallowed, your heart thudding painfully in your chest as you took in the unfamiliar features—the pale skin, the hollow eyes, the face that looked almost gaunt. The realization settled in slowly, the pieces falling into place with a horrible sort of clarity. You knew this face. You knew these clothes, this room, the aching feeling that lingered in your chest.

It was the face of a character from a novel you had read as a teenager. A tragic, doomed villainess—one whose story had always stayed with you, not because of her actions but because of the injustice of it all. She was a character meant to suffer, her only role to push the heroine into her journey. She was used, discarded, her death nothing more than a footnote in the protagonist's story. The villainess with a cruel fate, a pawn in the hands of those more powerful, destined to be cast aside the moment her usefulness ran out.

You felt a chill settle in your bones, your body sinking back onto the edge of the bed as the weight of your new reality hit you. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t some fleeting nightmare you could wake up from. You were here—stuck in the body of a character whose life was nothing but misery.

Everything you had worked for—your career, your friendships, the life you had painstakingly built for yourself—was gone. All the late nights, the hard-earned successes, the laughter with friends over drinks—all of it was gone in an instant, replaced by a fate you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

The hopelessness of it all settled in, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. There was no future for this character, no way out. She was meant to suffer, to be used and discarded, and no matter how much you wanted to fight it, to believe that you could change it, a part of you knew the truth.

You were powerless here.

You buried your face in your hands, a shuddering breath escaping your lips. You wanted to cry, to scream, to demand answers. But there was no one here to answer you, no one who would care even if they could. You were alone, in a story that had already decided your fate.

The tragic villainess—the role you were now forced to play.

And you couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of despair.

After coming to terms with your new reality, you made a decision. You couldn’t afford to be a passive character in this story, waiting for the inevitable to crush you. If you were going to live in this world, then you would fight for it, rewrite the narrative, and carve out a future for yourself—even if that meant playing a role that no one expected of you.

The first challenge came at home. The character you possessed had a father—a lazy, indifferent man who spent his days drinking, oblivious to the decay of his household. The family was in debt, the estate falling apart, and the few servants left were more interested in lining their pockets than doing their jobs. You took a deep breath, refusing to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the task. One step at a time.

You started with the estate. You reviewed the books, fired the corrupt staff who had been bleeding your family dry, and brought in trustworthy people to take their place. It wasn’t easy—there were threats, and more than a few people tried to intimidate you into silence. But you had faced challenges before in your old life, and even in this new one, you weren’t about to be cowed.

Slowly, things began to change. The estate began to recover, the debts lessened, and the people who worked for you started to believe in you. You gained a reputation—first as a shrewd manager, then as someone who could be relied on to get things done. You built relationships, carefully navigating the intricacies of this world’s social dynamics. It wasn’t long before the local nobles started to take notice.

Your father, indifferent and content with his habits, became less of an obstacle as you quietly took over the responsibilities of your household. You made connections, attended social events, and gradually climbed the ranks. It was exhausting, demanding work, but every success fueled your determination.

Then came the opportunity that changed everything. A crisis in the kingdom required volunteers, and you stepped forward—a move that shocked those around you. A woman, much less a former disgraced noble, didn’t typically take on such a role. But you had no intention of following the rules laid out for you. You worked hard, proving your capability on the battlefield, earning respect not only for your strategic mind but also for your courage.

Eventually, you were knighted—a Dame of the kingdom, an honor that would have seemed impossible not long ago. It was followed by an offer to serve as a general. You accepted, knowing that with power came the opportunity to change your fate and secure a future free from the shackles of the tragic story you had once read.

The war that came next was brutal. You spent months on the frontlines, leading your soldiers through grueling battles. The weight of command was heavy; lives depended on you, and the decisions you made could mean the difference between victory and death. But you faced it all with a determination forged from your past life, a refusal to be anything less than victorious. You strategized, fought alongside your troops, and inspired them to fight harder.

In the end, you won. The kingdom's enemies were driven back, and you returned home not as the villainess destined for tragedy but as a war hero. The people cheered as you passed through the streets, and for the first time since you arrived in this world, you felt something other than fear and despair. You had fought, you had survived, and you had won.

The nobles who had once looked down on you were forced to recognize your accomplishments, and the people who once whispered about your family’s disgrace now spoke of your triumphs. You had rewritten the story, taken a character destined for misery and given her a new path—one forged by your own hands.

But even in victory, you knew the dangers of complacency. The story was far from over, and though you had managed to change your fate thus far, there were still challenges ahead. The heroine of the original story had yet to make her appearance, and the narrative that had once doomed you was still a threat.

But for now, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe, to take in the sight of the city you had fought to protect. You had climbed higher than anyone had expected, and you were determined not to fall. You had built something new—something that was yours. And you would fight to keep it, no matter what came next.

But along the way, you’d lost something essential. The joy, the ambition, the passion that had once driven you was gone. You’d become cold, hardened by the betrayals you’d faced. Even the people closest to you turned out to be disloyal.

The most painful betrayal was from a soldier you had trusted with your life—someone you had fought beside in war. He had been leaking information to the enemy, and you were forced to execute him with your own hand. His treachery cut deeper than any wound you had suffered in battle.

Your butler, a kind old man who had become something of a father figure to you, noticed the change. He often tried to cheer you up, suggesting suitors and hosting lavish events, but none of it worked. The eligible bachelors and bachelorettes who came your way were only interested in your title and wealth, not you. You became cynical, distrustful, and your butler could only watch in sadness as the vibrant person you once were faded away.

It didn’t help that you had made powerful enemies. The first prince, who you had fought beside during the war, had proposed to you.

The grand hall of the imperial palace was buzzing with the energy of the noble elite, all gathered to witness the unprecedented moment. You stood at the forefront of the room, the golden imperial crest behind you shimmering in the light of hundreds of candles.

The emperor himself had just awarded you the title of Grand Duchess, a feat no woman had ever achieved before. The applause was thunderous, the murmurs of awe and envy swirling through the crowd like a current.

You stood tall, your posture regal, even though the weight of the moment pressed down on you like a heavy crown. You’d worked for years to get here, fighting both on the battlefield and in the political arena, your every victory hard-earned.

It should’ve been a moment of triumph. And yet, the expression on the emperor’s face, tight and thin-lipped, warned you that this celebration wasn’t going to end on a pleasant note.

Sure enough, the moment the formalities ended, the first prince took a step forward. His crimson military uniform was pristine, medals gleaming on his chest, but the shine didn’t reach his eyes. You’d fought beside him during the war, seen his cowardice firsthand, and his presence already had your stomach turning.

He cleared his throat, and the hall fell into silence. The crowd’s attention shifted to him, eyes wide with anticipation. A royal prince proposing to the empire’s new Grand Duchess? It was the kind of spectacle they lived for.

“Grand Duchess,” he began, his voice booming with the kind of arrogance that only a man born into power could possess, “your bravery and accomplishments have brought great honor to this empire. You have achieved more than any woman before you, and it would be my honor to have you by my side.”

You felt your blood run cold. Oh, you knew this was coming. It had been whispered through the halls of the palace since the day you returned from the front lines—the cowardly prince, had been seeking to marry you and elevate his own standing. You’d avoided it until now, but it seemed the time for subtlety was over. He had chosen this moment, in front of the entire nobility, to make his move.

The prince knelt before you, reaching into his pocket to produce a ring—a garish thing, oversized and glittering with a ridiculous number of diamonds. The kind of ring that screamed, look at me, I’m important, but utterly lacked any true beauty. He held it up to you, the crowd around you gasping in unison.

“I ask for your hand in marriage, Grand Duchess,” he declared, his voice filled with artificial charm. “Together, we will rule this empire as the most powerful couple in history.”

You stared down at him, your jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder you didn’t break a tooth. Your mind raced as you felt the weight of every eye in the room on you. They were waiting for you to swoon, to accept, to submit to the prince’s advances like some simpering debutante.

But you? You were no ordinary noblewoman, no pawn in the empire’s political games. You had fought for this title, bled for it, earned it in ways he could never understand. And there was no way in hell you were going to let yourself be reduced to a mere accessory to this man’s weak, cowardly ambition.

Taking a deep breath, you looked down at the prince—this spoiled, useless man who thought his status alone could make up for his lack of character—and something inside you snapped.

“Marry you?” you repeated, your voice clear and cold, echoing through the hall. The prince’s smile wavered, and murmurs began to ripple through the audience.

You stepped forward, your voice rising with a sharp edge. “You think I would ever marry someone like you? A man who cowered behind his soldiers in battle, who fled at the first sign of danger? A man who abandoned his comrades, left them to die while he ran to save his own skin?”

The crowd gasped, the sound a collective intake of shock. his face flushed with embarrassment, but you weren’t done.

“I would rather marry a toad,” you continued, your voice dripping with scorn, “than be tied to a man as spineless and pathetic as you.”

The hall fell into a stunned silence. the prince's face went from red to ashen, his hand still frozen in place, holding that absurd ring. He opened his mouth, sputtering, but no words came out. He hadn’t expected this—no one had.

You could feel the weight of the empire’s gaze on you, but it didn’t matter. You were no longer just the Grand Duchess. You were something far more dangerous: a woman who had the power to defy the expectations of an entire empire.

“You would do well,” you said, your voice dropping to a deadly calm, “to remember that I earned this title. Not by birthright. Not by marriage. But by merit. And I’ll be damned if I ever let someone like you take that from me.”

With that, you turned your back on him, the prince still kneeling, humiliated in front of the empire’s most powerful. The nobles around you stood in stunned silence, some daring to whisper amongst themselves, while others watched in awe, as if witnessing a force of nature in human form.

As you walked away from the proposal, your eyes met the emperor’s. His face was unreadable, but there was a glint in his eyes—a silent acknowledgment that you had just done something no one else would have dared. You had broken the rules of this world, and the repercussions would be felt for years to come.

But you didn’t care. You were done playing their games.

Let them try and tame you. You had made it this far on your own, and you weren’t about to let anyone—least of all a toad in princely clothing—stand in your way.

The day had started like any other—a grey, somber morning draped in the quiet monotony you had come to know. The Grand Duchess’s estate was immaculate, polished to perfection, reflecting the cold and unyielding nature of its owner.

You moved through the day with the same precision as ever, going through endless meetings, signing off on reports, handling political maneuvers with the finesse of a seasoned war general. Yet, beneath it all, the hollowness remained.

Until that afternoon.

A delegation from the Scalding Sands had arrived, their colorful caravans contrasting sharply with the muted grandeur of your estate. You had heard they were coming—a diplomatic mission of sorts—and while you didn’t expect much from it, the formalities had to be observed. It was part of your role now, after all.

You stood at the grand entrance, waiting as the doors swung open to reveal the visiting party. A small group of advisors and servants stepped in first, but then your eyes fell on the young man leading them.

Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the most prominent merchant family in the Scalding Sands.

Dressed in vibrant silks, Kalim practically radiated joy. His bright eyes shone with unfiltered excitement, and his smile was wide, carefree, as if he was about to greet an old friend instead of a war-hardened Duchess. His enthusiasm was…disarming, to say the least.

“Grand Duchess!” Kalim called out the moment he spotted you, practically bouncing as he approached. “It’s an honor to finally meet you! Your reputation precedes you—everyone’s been talking about how amazing you are!”

You blinked, taken aback by his unabashed warmth. No one had spoken to you like that in years—so casual, so genuine. Most nobles approached you with caution, fear even, carefully curating their words to avoid upsetting the ice-cold facade you’d been forced to build. But Kalim? He had no such hesitations.

You inclined your head, keeping your tone measured. “Lord Al-Asim, welcome to my estate. I trust your journey was smooth?”

“Oh, it was fantastic! The weather was perfect, and we got to see so many beautiful sights on the way here! Your countryside is amazing—so green! Nothing like back home.” He beamed at you, his energy practically infectious. “I brought some gifts too! We have spices, silks, and a bunch of other stuff from home that I think you’ll love.”

As he rattled off the list of things he brought, you found yourself…listening. Actually listening, instead of mechanically going through the motions. There was something about his unfiltered excitement that was strangely comforting. It had been so long since anyone had spoken to you like this, without calculation or hidden motives.

“I appreciate the thought,” you replied, a small flicker of something unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “I’ll have the servants take care of the gifts. Please, come inside.”

He entered the estate like a burst of sunlight, his presence immediately brightening the space. As the servants guided his entourage to their rooms, you walked alongside him, pointing out some of the estate’s features. Kalim seemed utterly fascinated by everything.

“Wow, this place is incredible!” Kalim exclaimed as they passed through the gallery. His eyes wandered over the portraits lining the walls, the tapestries depicting your family’s history. “It’s so different from back home. You must be so proud to live here.”

Pride? You hadn’t felt pride in anything for a long time. Your estate, your title—it was all just the result of relentless hard work, the endless climb to the top. But you had never stopped to admire it. To feel pride in what you’d built.

Still, you nodded, keeping your face composed. “It serves its purpose.”

Kalim gave you a curious glance. “You know, it sounds like you’re talking about a sword instead of your home.”

A sword. That’s what your life had been, hadn’t it? A weapon, sharp and unyielding, forged in battle, cutting down every obstacle in its path. But now, with Kalim’s innocent comment, you wondered—was that all it was?

Before you could respond, Kalim suddenly paused in front of one of the massive windows overlooking the gardens. The view was breathtaking, the autumn leaves casting the scene in warm, golden hues.

“Hey, look!” Kalim pointed excitedly. “Your garden! It’s so beautiful this time of year. Do you ever just sit out there and enjoy it?”

You blinked again. Enjoy it? The idea seemed foreign, almost absurd. But then, looking at Kalim’s wide, hopeful eyes, you found yourself saying, “No… I don’t.”

Kalim turned to you, that same sunny grin never leaving his face. “You should! I mean, you’ve worked so hard, right? You deserve to enjoy the little things too.”

His words caught you off guard. You’d forgotten what it felt like to enjoy anything.

But then, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, a faint smile tugged at your lips. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there.

The maids and butlers who had been quietly observing from the corners of the room nearly gasped. One of them—your head butler, who had served you since the day you first took over your family’s estate—actually dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, looking as though he might burst into tears.

“D-Duchess…!” one of the younger maids whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “She’s smiling…”

You caught sight of the butler’s reaction and, for a moment, you almost laughed. It was such a strange sight—your stoic, stern staff, so moved by something as simple as a smile.

Kalim noticed it too, tilting his head curiously. “Why’s everyone so emotional?”

You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping before you could stop it. “I suppose they’re not used to seeing me… enjoy myself.”

Kalim’s grin widened, his eyes practically sparkling. “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to change that! It’s about time you had some fun, right?”

You didn’t answer right away, but for the first time in years, something inside you—something long buried under layers of responsibility, grief, and betrayal—began to stir.

Perhaps he was right.

Perhaps it was time for you to remember what it felt like to live again.

The grand ballroom was a sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits, filled with nobles and dignitaries who moved gracefully across the floor, their laughter and chatter blending with the soft music from the orchestra.

You stood at the edge of the room, as you always did during these events, keeping a careful distance from the festivities. These gatherings were necessary, of course—an unavoidable part of your role—but that didn’t mean you enjoyed them.

You took a sip of the champagne in your hand, your eyes scanning the room with practiced detachment. As always, you were observing—watching the faces, reading the subtle exchanges of power and influence happening between the guests.

The weight of your title hung heavy on your shoulders, a constant reminder of the responsibilities you bore. Even here, surrounded by laughter and music, you felt that familiar distance, the wall you had built around yourself growing ever higher.

It wasn’t until you noticed the flash of bright colors weaving through the crowd that your attention shifted. Kalim Al-Asim, as vibrant as ever, was making his way through the ballroom, greeting guests with his usual exuberance.

His silks shimmered in the soft candlelight, his wide grin impossible to miss. He moved with an ease that most nobles envied, free from the stifling formality that seemed to bind everyone else.

And then, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes found yours. His face lit up with recognition, and without hesitation, he started toward you.

“Oh, there you are!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement as he reached your side. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Isn’t this ball amazing? The music, the lights, the people—it’s all so lively!”

You gave him a polite nod, your usual reserved expression in place. “It’s certainly… lively.”

Kalim laughed, clearly not picking up on your lack of enthusiasm. “You’re always so serious! You should join in the fun, you know! This kind of thing doesn’t happen every day.”

Before you could respond, he held out his hand to you, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. “Dance with me!”

The request caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a step back, shaking your head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t dance.”

Kalim tilted his head, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Come on! You can’t say no to a party like this! Everyone’s having such a good time—you should too.”

You opened your mouth to refuse again, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was no expectation, no hidden motive—just the same infectious joy he carried with him everywhere he went. And for a moment, you hesitated, feeling something stir inside you. When was the last time you’d allowed yourself to have fun? To do something as simple as dance?

Still, old habits were hard to break. “I’m not exactly one for dancing,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

But Kalim wasn’t deterred. “That’s okay! You don’t have to be good at it—you just have to enjoy it!” He took your hand, his grip warm and inviting. “Please? Just one dance?”

There was something so sincere in his request, so full of hope, that you found yourself nodding before you could think better of it.

Kalim’s face lit up with delight, and without wasting a moment, he led you out onto the dance floor. The room seemed to blur around you as he took your hand in his, guiding you into the rhythm of the music. His movements were far from graceful, but they were full of life, and you couldn’t help but be swept along by his energy.

At first, you were stiff, your posture as rigid as ever, but Kalim’s enthusiasm was contagious. He spun you around with such glee that you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprising even to yourself. Kalim grinned at you, clearly thrilled that he had coaxed a smile from you.

“See? You’re already having fun!” he said brightly.

And he was right. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you weren’t thinking about the politics of the room, the weight of your title, or the endless responsibilities waiting for you. For this brief moment, you were just… dancing. Letting go. Enjoying yourself.

As the music swelled, Kalim twirled you again, his laughter mixing with the sounds of the ballroom. The two of you were out of step with the rest of the dancers, your movements more playful than elegant, but you didn’t care. Neither did Kalim. He didn’t care about appearances or expectations—he just wanted you to be happy, and for this one dance, you let him succeed.

Around you, the other guests had begun to notice. Whispers passed between them, astonished gazes following your every move. The Grand Duchess—stoic, untouchable—laughing and dancing with such abandon was something no one had ever expected to see. Your knights, stationed at the edge of the ballroom, exchanged incredulous glances, unable to believe what they were witnessing.

“She’s dancing…” one of them murmured, barely audible. “And she’s smiling.”

Your head butler, who had been hovering nearby as always, watched with misty eyes. “This… this is a day for the history books,” he whispered, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.

You could feel their eyes on you, the shock rippling through the room, but for once, you didn’t care. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be free, to laugh, to dance, to let go of the weight that had been pressing down on you for so long.

As the song came to an end, Kalim pulled you into one final twirl, his grin as wide as ever. When the music stopped, you found yourself breathless but… lighter. For the first time in years, you felt a spark of something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Joy.

Kalim beamed at you, clearly proud of himself. “See? I told you it’d be fun!”

You shook your head, unable to stop the small smile that lingered on your lips. “You are… impossible, Kalim.”

He laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll take that as a compliment!”

As you returned to your spot at the edge of the room, the music starting up again for the next dance, you realized that something had changed. Kalim had reminded you of something you had long forgotten—that it was okay to enjoy yourself. That even someone like you, burdened with the weight of leadership, could allow herself a moment of happiness.

And maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself more moments like this.

The night after the ball had been long and arduous, and you were ready to retreat into the sanctuary of your chambers. The walls of your estate, which had once felt like a fortress, now felt suffocating as you tried to quiet the noise in your mind.

The forced smiles, the veiled threats, the insidious whispers among the nobility—they were all routine by now, but they weighed heavier tonight.

As you reached for the door to your private quarters, a sharp knock echoed through the hallway. One of your servants stepped forward, their face pale, eyes lowered in deference.

"The Emperor has summoned you, Grand Duchess."

Your fingers froze on the door handle. The Emperor? At this hour?

Though dread prickled at your skin, you squared your shoulders and strode down the hall toward the imperial throne room. The Emperor wasn’t one for idle conversation; this was bound to be more than a simple debrief after the ball.

The grand doors to the throne room loomed before you, and with a nod from the guards, they creaked open to reveal the Emperor seated on his throne. He was draped in the finest clothes, his presence radiating authority, but there was something sharper in his gaze tonight. The first prince, stood off to the side, arms crossed, a triumphant smirk barely hidden behind his princely facade.

You stepped into the room, head held high. You wouldn’t show weakness, not here. Not in front of them.

"Your Majesty," you greeted, voice steady.

The Emperor wasted no time. “Grand Duchess, tonight’s events have caused quite a stir.” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes hard as stone. “Your rejection of the First Prince in such a public manner has… complicated things.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. You clenched your fists but remained silent, waiting for him to reveal his true intention.

He sighed, a sound heavy with pretense. “The nobility is divided, and the Empire cannot afford instability. You have two choices before you.”

Your eyes flickered towards the first prince, who was barely containing his glee. You already knew what was coming.

“Marry the first prince and strengthen your position within the royal family.” The Emperor's voice was calm, deliberate. “Or, if that does not suit you…” He paused for effect, his gaze hardening as if daring you to defy him. “Marry Kalim Al-Asim and solidify our diplomatic alliance with the Scalding Sands.”

The room felt as though it had tilted. You knew this was coming, yet hearing the words spoken aloud felt like a slap across the face. “And if I refuse both?” you asked, voice colder than ice.

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “Then I will have no choice but to imprison you for defying royal decree.” He leaned back into his throne, fingers tapping on the armrest. “You’ve served this empire well, but even you are not above the law.”

Your heart thundered in your chest, fury bubbling just beneath your skin. You, who had rebuilt "your" family’s estate, who had served the empire with every drop of blood and sweat you had to give—this was your reward? An ultimatum. Marry a prince who disgusted you, or chain yourself to Kalim, someone who was the antithesis of everything you had become.

You felt your lips curl into a grim smile. “So those are my choices. A cowardly prince or shackling Kalim to someone like me—a shell of a person who’s long forgotten how to live.” The bitterness in your voice was unmistakable.

Kalim, who had been standing nearby, watching the exchange, finally stepped forward. His face was still lit with that ever-present smile, though softer now, and he didn’t seem rattled in the slightest by the gravity of the situation. “I mean… I wouldn’t mind.”

You turned to him, incredulous. What?

Kalim laughed lightly, scratching the back of his head, his tone still as carefree as ever. “I’d be happy if it’s you. Really. Out of anyone in this empire, I’d rather be with someone strong and capable like you than some stranger who doesn’t even care.” His eyes were warm, completely sincere. There wasn’t a trace of fear or doubt in his words. “Plus, you’re pretty amazing! You’ve done so much for your estate, your people... I think you’re really cool!”

For a moment, just a brief moment, your raging heart stilled.

Kalim had no idea what kind of burden this marriage would be for him. You weren’t the person you once were. The years had hardened you, chipped away at the softness, leaving only the cold, sharp edges behind. Yet here he was, smiling, accepting the situation with an ease that made you wonder how he could be so unaffected.

You swallowed hard, your anger at the Emperor still simmering, but Kalim’s words had softened the blow. This wasn’t about him. He wasn’t the one forcing you into this corner. If anything, he was as much a pawn as you were.

But that didn’t mean you would accept this quietly.

You turned back to the Emperor, the cold fire in your eyes unmistakable. “Very well,” you said, voice calm but laced with venom. “I’ll marry Kalim if that is what you demand.” You took a step forward, your gaze piercing through the Emperor. “But rest assured, Your Majesty, this humiliation will not go unanswered. I may be bound by your decree, but you will regret underestimating me.”

The Emperor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but unimpressed. “Is that a threat, Grand Duchess?”

You smiled, slow and dangerous. “A promise.”

With that, you turned on your heel, your decision made. Kalim followed you without hesitation, his steps light and unburdened.

And as you left the imperial throne room, you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye. Kalim was smiling still, bright and carefree, as if nothing had changed.

Maybe—just maybe—you would survive this ordeal with a little less bitterness than you’d expected.

But the Emperor? He wouldn’t escape unscathed. You would make sure of that.

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of your manor, casting a warm, golden light across the room as you stood in the foyer. Kalim’s people from the Scalding Sands were preparing to depart, their vibrant, colorful robes a stark contrast to the colder tones of your estate.

You watched as they bustled about, gathering their things, saying their goodbyes, and it was a strange feeling—this sudden departure of the warmth they had brought with them.

Kalim was chatting excitedly with his entourage, gesturing wildly as he recounted some tale or another. His boundless energy had not dulled, despite the situation. You wondered how someone could remain so cheerful even in the face of such an uncertain future.

One of the senior members of Kalim’s delegation approached you, bowing deeply. “Grand Duchess, we are honored by your hospitality and your graciousness in this… unexpected engagement.” He glanced at Kalim with a fond, yet slightly exasperated look. “But our duties call us back to the Scalding Sands. We regret we cannot stay longer.”

You nodded, your expression softening slightly. “You are always welcome to stay in my manor for as long as you like. Consider it an apology for the empire’s… difficult circumstances.” The words didn’t come easily, but you meant them. You hadn’t missed how awkward the situation was for them—dragged into imperial politics without much say in the matter.

The advisor looked touched, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he bowed even deeper. “Your kindness is greatly appreciated, Grand Duchess. But, alas, we must return. We have duties to fulfill back home. Our people rely on us.”

You nodded in understanding, casting a glance at Kalim, who was still busy waving goodbye to his people. “I understand. Do what you must.”

The group finished their farewells and began filing out of the estate, leaving only one person behind—Jamil, Kalim’s loyal aide, who stood with his arms crossed, looking as calm and composed as ever.

Kalim turned to you with his usual bright smile, waving at his departing entourage. “Looks like it’s just us now!”

“And Jamil,” you added dryly.

Jamil gave a polite nod. “Of course, Grand Duchess. I will remain at Kalim’s side as always.”

You offered Jamil a brief nod before turning your attention back to Kalim. “I hope the manor is to your liking. It will likely feel different without your people around.”

Kalim beamed, completely unfazed. “Are you kidding? This place is amazing! Plus, I’ve made some new friends already.”

You raised an eyebrow. “New friends?”

At that moment, the door to the kitchen swung open, and a trio of your staff—two maids and your head butler—rushed into the room, their arms filled with notepads. They hovered around Kalim, their expressions a mix of admiration and excitement.

“Lord Al-Asim,” one of the maids began eagerly, “could you tell us again how you made the Grand Duchess laugh yesterday? We’d like to take notes.”

Kalim’s face lit up even more, if that was possible. “Oh, sure! So, I was just talking about how much I love riding on magic carpets and how one time, I almost flew straight into a flock of flamingos. You should’ve seen the feathers everywhere!” He burst into laughter, and the staff furiously scribbled in their notepads.

You stood there, blinking, utterly dumbfounded. You knew Kalim had a way of getting people to like him, but this? This was something else. You caught sight of your head butler, who was listening intently, nodding along as if Kalim were revealing some great secret to unlocking your happiness.

Kalim, noticing your expression, turned toward you with a huge grin. “See? I told you! They’re really interested in learning how to make you smile more!”

You couldn’t help it—a soft laugh escaped your lips. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Your estate, so accustomed to the stoic and rigid demeanor you carried, was now filled with your maids and butlers eagerly taking tips from a young merchant heir about how to bring joy into your life.

Your head butler gasped at the sound of your laugh, immediately dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief. “The Grand Duchess… she laughed again!” His voice quivered with emotion, and the younger maid next to him looked ready to burst into tears as well.

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself. You laughed—genuinely, fully, for the first time in what felt like years. The absurdity of it all, the sight of your normally stone-faced butler shedding tears of joy over something so simple, was too much.

Kalim, of course, laughed along with you, completely at ease. “See? It’s not so hard!”

You shook your head, still chuckling as you looked at him. “You’re impossible, Kalim.”

He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Hey, as long as you’re smiling, I’m doing something right!”

You glanced over at your butler, who was now openly weeping into his handkerchief. “Please, calm down. You’re making a scene.”

But the butler only waved a hand dramatically, unable to compose himself. “It is… a joy to witness such a thing, Grand Duchess. A joy I never thought I would see in my lifetime.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile lingered on your lips. “Honestly…”

Kalim, still grinning from ear to ear, looked at you with a warmth that, for just a moment, eased the tension that had been building in your chest since the engagement was announced. Though the situation was far from ideal, and though you still had plans to make the Emperor regret his actions, Kalim’s presence—his boundless energy and optimism—was like a ray of sunlight breaking through the storm clouds that had surrounded you for so long.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

<hr>

The bustling market was alive with the sights and sounds of your people going about their day—vendors calling out their wares, children running between the stalls, the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filling the air. It had been years since you last visited the market like this, blending in with the common folk, and you were struck by how much had changed since you were younger. The town had grown, thriving under your rule, and though you were always kept informed of the state of your territory, seeing it firsthand was a different experience altogether.

Beside you, Kalim was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes sparkled as he took in the vibrant displays of food, crafts, and goods, his smile as wide as ever. “Wow! This place is amazing! Look at all these stalls!” He dashed ahead, marveling at the colorful array of goods, his enthusiasm as infectious as ever.

You couldn’t help but smile at his energy, though you maintained your usual composed demeanor. “This market is one of the oldest in the region. It’s a center of trade, and many of the local families have been running their stalls for generations.”

Kalim turned to you, eyes bright with admiration. “Your people look so happy! I knew you were an amazing ruler, but seeing this with my own eyes? It’s incredible! You’ve built something really special here.”

There was a warmth in his words that caught you off guard, and for a moment, you found yourself lost in thought. You had always worked hard for your people, but you rarely took the time to reflect on how much you had accomplished. Hearing it from someone like Kalim—someone who was so honest and open in his praise—made it feel different, more personal.

He suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you toward a food stall where a vendor was grilling skewers of seasoned meat. “Hey, we’ve gotta try some of this!” Kalim exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. “It smells so good!”

The vendor, a stout older man with a friendly smile, bowed as he recognized you. “Grand Duchess! It is an honor to serve you today. Would you like to try one of our specialties?”

You nodded, taking in the scent of the sizzling food. “I’ll have two, please.”

The vendor handed you two skewers, and you turned to Kalim, offering him one. “Here, try this.”

Without a second thought, Kalim leaned in and took a bite right from the skewer you were holding, grinning up at you as he chewed. “Mmm! This is delicious!” His face lit up in delight, and he barely waited to swallow before he added, “You have to try some too!”

Before you could react, Kalim held his own skewer up to you, expecting you to do the same. The casualness of the gesture—the ease with which he shared his food—made you pause. It had been so long since anyone had treated you like this, without the usual formality or hesitation. Almost on instinct, you leaned in and took a small bite.

The flavor was rich, the spices perfectly balanced, but it wasn’t the food that had your attention. No, it was the way Kalim was watching you, his expression full of warmth and joy, as if this simple moment meant the world to him.

Your face warmed slightly, and before you could stop yourself, you realized you were blushing.

Behind you, you heard a sharp intake of breath from one of your knights, who had been quietly trailing after you. “Did… did the Grand Duchess just blush?” one of them whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with astonishment.

Another knight, equally stunned, gasped. “She did! I saw it! She actually blushed!”

You turned to glare at your knights, trying to regain your composure. “Enough,” you said sharply, though your flustered tone betrayed you. “Focus on your duties.”

But your knights were having none of it. One of them, a young woman with a mischievous glint in her eye, exchanged glances with her comrades before whispering, “Did you see how casual she was with him? They’re feeding each other like a couple!”

Another knight, eyes wide with excitement, chimed in. “I can’t believe this! The Grand Duchess… flustered by her fiancé? It’s like we’re in a romance novel!”

You shot them another look, but Kalim, completely oblivious to the whispers and side glances, just laughed, offering you more of his skewer. “Here, have some more! You look like you liked it!”

Your heart raced at the simple, kind gesture, and though you wanted to maintain your icy composure, something about Kalim’s sincerity made it impossible to stay guarded. You took another bite, feeling your face grow even warmer as your knights barely contained their squeals of excitement.

One of the senior knights, trying to remain composed but failing miserably, muttered, “This is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Lord Al-Asim is working miracles.”

“I know!” another knight whispered excitedly. “We should take notes! Maybe we can keep her in a good mood if we learn from him.”

The absurdity of it all—the idea of your battle-hardened knights taking pointers from Kalim on how to make you smile—was too much. You couldn’t help it; a soft, genuine laugh escaped your lips.

You sighed, shaking your head as Kalim smiled up at you, completely unaware of the chaos he had just caused. “You really are impossible, Kalim.”

Kalim grinned, completely at ease. “Hey, as long as you’re happy, I’m doing something right!”

For the first time in a long while, surrounded by the people you’d worked so hard to protect and with Kalim at your side, you felt a genuine lightness in your heart. Maybe this wasn’t the life you had planned, but for now, in this moment, it didn’t seem so bad.

From the moment Kalim Al-Asim first stepped into your estate, he could feel the weight of the world pressing down on you. It wasn’t something you said or did—if anything, you were composed, graceful, carrying yourself with the kind of authority that made people hesitate before speaking to you.

No, it was something deeper, something in the way your shoulders were always so tense, the way your eyes seemed to hold a kind of tiredness that went beyond just physical exhaustion.

Kalim wasn’t blind to his own shortcomings. He wasn’t the smartest guy—he knew that. He’d been told as much more times than he could count. People often saw him as naive, too happy-go-lucky for the responsibilities placed on his shoulders.

That’s what Jamil was for, after all, to cover for his inadequacies and ensure that things went smoothly. Kalim didn’t mind. He trusted Jamil more than anyone, and he knew his limits.

But when he met you, something shifted inside him.

At first, it was just awe. You were the Grand Duchess, after all—the person everyone talked about. A ruler who had risen to power not by birthright but through sheer will and skill.

You had this aura of strength around you, like a shield. But Kalim could see the cracks in that armor, the way the weight of your responsibilities was crushing you, little by little. And it hurt to see.

He’d expected you to be cold, maybe even harsh, like so many nobles who carried the weight of authority. But when you greeted him, your voice wasn’t harsh—it was gentle. There was pressure behind it, sure, but you didn’t snap at him or dismiss his excitement, even though he knew people often found him a bit too much.

Instead, you listened to him. You smiled—a small, almost invisible one—but it was there, and it lit something inside him. A flutter he didn’t quite know how to describe.

It was when you smiled for him for the first time that he really felt it. That small, faint curve of your lips after he’d gotten a little too excited about something as simple as a window view of your garden. The flutter in his chest was unfamiliar, but he didn’t dislike it. No, in fact, it felt… nice. Special.

Kalim couldn’t help but want to make you smile again.

He’d seen so many people forced into roles that didn’t let them be happy, and he hated that you seemed to be one of them. You were strong, yeah, but you were suffering, too. And that was something Kalim couldn’t stand. So, from that moment on, he made it a personal goal to lighten the weight on your shoulders, even if just a little.

He didn’t have Jamil’s cleverness, didn’t understand the nuances of the political games you were constantly playing, but maybe—just maybe—he could give you something simple. A reminder that life wasn’t just about duty and responsibility, that there could be joy, too. If anyone deserved to smile more, it was you.

And when you did, that tiny flutter in his chest bloomed into something more. He didn’t have the words for it, but whatever it was, it made him even more determined to stick by your side.

Because in the end, Kalim Al-Asim wasn’t the smartest, but he knew one thing for sure: he liked making you happy. And if he could do that, even in the smallest ways, then maybe that was enough.

The wedding had been a grand affair—briefly mentioned in conversations, a formality that had swept through the palace in a whirlwind of silks, flowers, and the astonished murmurs of nobles. Now, life had settled into its new rhythm. The days moved forward, filled with work and the familiar weight of duty, yet something had shifted. Something brighter.

You sat at your desk, papers spread out in front of you, quill in hand. The room was quiet, save for the soft scratching of pen on parchment. But then, a familiar burst of energy entered the room.

Kalim.

He bounded over to you, practically glowing with life, as always. His smile was wide, his eyes gleaming as he plopped down beside you, legs crossed, hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

“Hey, what’re you working on? Anything exciting? You should take a break—you’ve been at it for hours!” His words bubbled up, his excitement palpable.

You glanced up from your work, unable to suppress the smallest of smiles. Kalim had that effect—an infectious lightness that made everything around him feel… easier. As he leaned closer to peer at your papers, you felt the warmth of his presence, the joy that radiated from him in every small movement.

And then, it hit you.

The past few months, since you had arrived in this world, had been the best you could remember. Despite everything—despite the weight of your responsibilities, the confusion of your new life—there had been him. Kalim, always there with his endless enthusiasm, his unwavering kindness. He was the reason those months had been so full of life, so unexpectedly joyful.

Without thinking, you reached out, grabbing his arm and pulling him down onto your lap. His laughter bubbled up in surprise as you tugged him into your space, but before he could say anything, you leaned in and kissed him.

For a moment, the world stilled. His lips were soft, warm against yours, and you could feel the surprised smile lingering there, slowly deepening as he kissed you back, his hands resting gently on your shoulders.

When you pulled back, his eyes sparkled, his grin wider than ever.

“Well, that was unexpected!” he laughed, his cheeks flushed. “I should interrupt your work more often!”

The chaos hit you the moment you opened the door.

Papers were scattered everywhere, an overturned chair lay dramatically in the corner, and somehow, somehow, Kalim had managed to knock over an entire shelf of books, which now covered the floor in what could only be described as a literary avalanche.

In the center of it all was Kalim himself, spinning wildly in circles as he tried to catch a parrot—yes, a parrot—that was squawking and flapping around the room like it had a personal vendetta against order.

"Oh! You're back!" Kalim shouted, not missing a beat as he stumbled over a pile of papers, arms flailing as the parrot swooped low above his head. "You wouldn’t believe it—Jamil said not to bring the bird in, but I thought, 'Hey, it’ll liven things up!' And now it’s really livening things up!"

The parrot screeched in agreement, swooping low again as Kalim tried (and failed) to dodge it, knocking into another pile of books in the process.

You just stood there, blinking, trying to comprehend the sheer absurdity of what you were seeing. Your instinct—your usual instinct—would have been to explode, to demand why Kalim had brought a parrot into your office and created a scene worthy of a disaster movie.

But then Kalim turned toward you, still laughing despite the madness, his eyes bright with excitement and joy. He looked so happy, so full of life, and that grin—oh, that ridiculous, infectious grin—just melted away any irritation you might’ve felt.

You sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated, but completely smitten.

"Why did you bring a parrot in here, Kalim?" you asked, not really expecting a logical answer.

"I thought it could help!" he said earnestly, ducking again as the parrot flapped by. "You know, for moral support! But I think it’s mad about the crackers I gave it—they weren’t the fancy ones."

Despite yourself, you snorted a laugh. Fancy crackers for a parrot. Of course.

Shaking your head, you rolled up your sleeves and waded into the chaos. "Alright," you said with a sigh, "how do we calm this thing down?"

"I knew you'd help!" Kalim beamed, his grin wider than ever as he accidentally knocked over another stack of books while trying to reach for the bird. "You’re the best!"

And just like that, any frustration you might’ve felt disappeared. It was impossible to stay mad when Kalim was around, when he looked at you like that, his smile brighter than the chaos surrounding you.

Sure, you should’ve been irritated—you definitely should’ve scolded him—but the truth was, you didn’t care. Not when you liked seeing him happy like this.

The parrot screeched again, now perched on top of the chandelier, and you looked at Kalim, who was already planning his next attempt to capture it, enthusiasm never wavering.

"Alright," you muttered with a smirk, "let’s catch a parrot."

Because really, with Kalim, how could you say no?

The council chamber was as dull as ever. Endless discussions, arguments over treaties and trade, and the first prince droning on with his overinflated sense of importance. Once, you would have gritted your teeth and endured it, forcing yourself to care because you had to—because that was what duty demanded.

But now, with Kalim beside you, the air felt lighter. His presence added a quiet warmth, even in this room filled with scheming nobles and stifling protocol.

You caught Kalim sneaking glances at you, barely containing his grin, and he leaned in, whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we snuck out? I saw this really nice restaurant on the way.”

You smothered a laugh, turning your gaze downward. You’d never dreamed you could feel such joy during these dreary meetings, but here you were, caught in this bubble with him, like the two of you were the only people in the room. His happiness became your own, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The first prince’s voice faltered, his expression darkening as he noticed the soft smile you were trying to hide. Anger sparked in his eyes, a sharp glint of resentment as he realized his plans to manipulate you had come to nothing. He looked at you and Kalim as if he were staring at an infuriating puzzle—one that needed to be destroyed.

That night, after a grueling day of meetings, you made your way to your chambers. The hallways were quiet, and the familiar comforts of your estate filled you with calm, but something felt off. Shadows stretched where they shouldn’t, moving unnaturally, as if they had a life of their own. Your instincts kicked in, and you quickened your pace.

You reached your shared bedroom, a flicker of movement catching your eye. There, in the corner, figures clad in dark robes converged around Kalim. His eyes widened, but before he could react, you lunged forward, fury blazing in your veins.

You fought them off with nothing but raw strength and sheer will, each blow desperate and ferocious. They struck at you, blades glinting, and you felt pain slice across your skin, but you refused to yield, refusing to let them get anywhere near him.

At last, the final attacker crumpled to the floor. You staggered, blood staining your clothes, the pain seeping into every limb, but Kalim’s arms were already there, catching you before you could fall.

His expression was uncharacteristically serious, his cheerful demeanor replaced by something sharp, regal—a reminder that he was no mere boy in love but the heir of a powerful family.

The doctor arrived, working quickly, and once you were settled in bed, Kalim took a seat beside you. His gaze was steady, intense, and for the first time, you saw the weight of responsibility in his eyes, the silent authority he usually kept hidden beneath layers of laughter and joy.

“Why did you fight them alone?” he asked quietly, his hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t have to—”

You shook your head, a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Because no one hurts you. Not while I’m here.”

His hand stilled, and a flicker of pain crossed his face. “I didn’t have to stay, you know.” His voice was soft but firm, carrying the weight of a decision made long ago. “I’m not tied to this empire. My family’s influence is vast; we don’t need anyone’s approval. But I stayed… because I like being here with you. Because I…” His voice faltered, but his gaze held yours. “Because I love you.”

Kalim’s hand clasped yours, his fingers warm and steady. “The Scalding Sands will manage without this empire. And this place… it doesn’t deserve you. Not when it has hurt you like this.” His voice grew colder, a tone you’d never heard from him before. “Let it fall apart, for all I care. I’m done watching it drain the life out of you.”

For a long moment, you lay there, absorbing the enormity of his words. A world without the burden of duty, free from the endless cycles of treachery and expectation. And Kalim beside you, offering not just escape, but freedom, and a life filled with joy.

A soft laugh escaped you, surprising even yourself. “I don’t care if the empire crashes and burns,” you murmured, your hand tightening around his. “I don’t care about any of it. I just want you.”

Kalim’s eyes softened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing gently against yours. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with a promise of a new beginning. It was a moment that felt like the closing of one life and the opening of another, a vow sealed with warmth and certainty.

You both pulled back, breathless but smiling, a new, shared future blooming between you. And when you finally closed your eyes, your hand still in his, you knew you’d face whatever came next together, no matter where it led.

The final ball was as grand as ever, the ballroom filled with nobles dressed in the finest silks and jewels, their laughter and chatter a thin veil over the ever-present tension in the room.

You entered with Kalim by your side, the weight of what you were about to do settling over you like armor. The empire had always been a battlefield for you, but tonight… tonight, you were walking away from it all.

At the far end of the ballroom, the Emperor sat on his gilded throne, the golden imperial crest looming behind him. His eyes scanned the room lazily, but you could see the calculation in his gaze. Beside him stood the First Prince, his eyes narrowing at you the moment you entered. His jaw clenched, the flicker of rage barely contained beneath the surface.

You weren’t here to dance, though. No, tonight was about setting yourself free.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the center of the ballroom, Kalim’s presence a comforting warmth beside you. The chatter died down almost instantly, and all eyes turned toward you. Whispers spread like wildfire through the crowd—what was the Grand Duchess planning now?

You gave them no time to speculate.

“Your Majesty,” you called out, your voice sharp enough to cut through the murmurs. “I stand before you one last time to say this: I will no longer serve this Empire.”

The room fell into stunned silence, gasps echoing off the walls. The Emperor’s eyes darkened, his hand gripping the armrest of his throne tightly, but you didn’t stop.

“Your empire,” you continued, your voice rising, “is built on the backs of people far better than you. You are a rotten king. You speak of honor and glory, but all you do is send others to die for your own ambition. I bled for this empire, fought your wars, won your battles, and for what? So you could sit on your throne, pretending to be a ruler when you’re nothing but a coward hiding behind false titles?”

The nobles gasped again, their shock palpable. No one had ever spoken to the Emperor like this.

“And you,” you snapped, turning toward the First Prince, your eyes blazing. “You—who ordered the assassination of my husband because I rejected you—are even worse. A spineless coward with nothing to back your ego. You hide behind your father’s power, hoping that killing the man I love will somehow make me regret not choosing you. But I could never love someone as weak as you. You are pathetic.”

His face turned an ugly shade of red, his hand twitching toward the sword at his side, but you weren’t afraid. You had seen what he was capable of—nothing.

The Emperor finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. “You dare insult your emperor, the man who gave you your title?”

“I earned my title,” you snapped, stepping forward. “I didn’t need your permission or your favor to become who I am. You gave me nothing that I didn’t take for myself. And I’ll tell you this—I will never fight another war for someone as revolting as you.”

The Emperor’s mask of indifference cracked, his eyes blazing with fury, but behind it, you could see the desperation. He needed you. The Empire needed you. They couldn’t afford to lose you.

He leaned forward, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “What do you want? Wealth? Power? I’ll give you anything. Just don’t walk away.”

You almost laughed at the irony of it—this man who had always acted like you were disposable, now begging you to stay.

But you didn’t need his power. You didn’t need his wealth. You glanced at Kalim, who stood beside you with that same warmth, that same unshakable love in his eyes. And in that moment, you knew exactly what you wanted.

“Kalim is enough,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I don’t need anything from you.”

With that, you turned on your heel, not sparing the Emperor or his pathetic son another glance. Kalim followed without question, his hand finding yours as you walked out of the ballroom, your loyal knights, butler, and maids falling in step behind you.

You could hear the stunned whispers of the nobles behind you, their shock hanging in the air like a tangible thing, but you didn’t care. You had walked away from the Empire, from its corruption, from its endless, soul-sucking games.

And now? Now, you were free.

As the cool night air hit your face, Kalim squeezed your hand, his bright smile lighting up the darkness. “So,” he said, his voice filled with excitement, “where should we go first on our adventure?”

You laughed softly, feeling lighter than you had in years. “Anywhere. Everywhere. As long as it’s with you.”

And with that, you ran. Away from the Empire, away from the pain of your past, toward a future filled with love, adventure, and endless possibilities.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you were truly happy.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist