#remarried empress au

[pruneunfair]

Heinrey at the end of my AU:

[witchofhimring]

The True Empress

Part one of "The Six Wives of Sovieshu"

Wife 1#: Navier Ellie Trovi

Note: This one will be the one most similar to canon as her story does not need to be changed for the purposes of this au.

"The girl shall live her life, his majesty shall live his, and I shall live mine." Those were the words Empress Navier Ellie Trovi said to herself when her husband took a mistress. At the time she considered it a fleeting fancy on his part. So she buried her hurt and carried on, secure in her position. No one could have foreseen that in just a few months Navier would lose her throne to the mistress, Rashta.

The Trovi family boosted a long history of Empresses. From the moment of her birth Navier was the latest in this imperial lineup. She would walk through the halls and gaze at the past Empresses, many of whom she shared features with. There was pride mingled with the looming pressure that weighed down on her every day. All their hopes were placed on Navier to perform nothing less than perfectly. For if she did not, how would they see her? Another future Empress might walk these hall, see her portrait, and think "now that is an Empress I should not emulate". The fear would keep her up at night. It was her secret terror, locked away under a façade of calmness.

It was crucial to remain calm. For to be Empress one must obtain full control of their emotions. Every step and breath would be fully monitored. She was both the envy of every woman and the most pitiful creature. “The Ice Empress” was a charming little epithet dubbed on Navier. For all they saw was the collected veneer on top, not the pain boiling beneath the surface. 

It was not an easy journey. Years of self control, abstaining from pleasure others indulged in freely and hard work that drove her to tears was what it took. Every waking moment the looming prospect of her duty loomed over her. Sometimes, when she was quite alone, Navier would look down onto the platform below. Girls with more life in them flitted about with each day bringing a new adventure. Compared to stalwart Navier these girls seemed far more interesting. She remembered the exciting excursions the others enjoyed and how her friends told their stories. People would crowd around them and eagerly listen.

“I’m boring.” Thought Navier.  

She was beautiful, but sometimes Navier felt that was all she was. Just a pretty face to wear the crown who only thought of work. Yet it was who she was, to be dutiful. 

This is not to say things had always been thus. While as a child Navier had been kept busy she still remained a kid. Those early days saw Navier running around with the boy who would be her husband, Sovieshu. He had been her friend and companion. While Navier was not sure she loved him, her heart beat for him. She imagined a future where they ruled together. A future were as Emperor and Empress they ruled over this vast empire.

And that they did, but at a great cost.

All that mattered was the crown. Navier no longer had time to play and indulge in childish desires. Sovieshu did not seem to understand her. Not that he was a lax emperor, but Navier was spurred on by a lifetime of duty beat into her. Every moment of the day revolved around the Eastern Empire. From waking to sleeping Navier had not a moments piece. it gave her a sense of calm when she knew those who came before would be proud. Empresses of the past would be well represented in her. Walking down the hallway Navier would look at the portraits and gaze where her portrait was. One day another empress would look at her portrait and think of Navier's legacy. She only hoped the impression would be a positive one.

In the midst of her duty Navier and Sovieshu saw less and less of each other. At first Navier did not notice. But one day while drinking tea with her ladies, she realized it had been a while since herself and Sovieshu had spent time together. Laying in bed that night Navier mulled over the issue. It bothered her, sending knots tying themselves into a frenzy over the issue. Navier had many virtues. But she found it hard to breach the issue. So Navier kept her silence. And the years went on and the distance grew and grew.

Time passed before they knew it. Not only did they grow older, but they changed in other ways. No longer were Navier and Sovieshu the same children. In fact they were children no longer. They were not even Navier Ellie Trovie and Prince Sovieshu. These days it was Empress Navier and Emperor Sovieshu. Titles were not the only things that had changed. As their duties piles on and the weight of their illustrious positions became unbearable, life changed. And they changed along with it.

Navier and Sovieshu sat apart from eachother on opposite ends of the table. The table was quite long, separating them by more than just a few feet. Navier picked at the last piece of carrot. Forlornly it lay there looking thoroughly unappetizing. On the other side Sovieshu's gaze was on his hand. The Emperors blue ring sat there glittering. Dinners had at some point become akward. One could not say when it happened. Just that one day Navier realized it was there. She wanted to say something, a great many things. Words never came to her, she had never been good at articulating emotions. So they continued to sit there in silence. Neither of them ever articulated their internalized agony. An agony they did not even realize.

 "Your majesty." Countess Eliza was a pillar of stability for the empress. With the doors closing it was just the two of them. "Come, a fragrant cup of tea should sooth you." The Countess Eliza took a pale hand that Navier prayed did not shake. A coldness had infiltrated her body. For once she felt like that reprehensible title, The Ice Empress. When she tried to stand her legs failed. "A mere slave had brought me to this." Navier thought. "His majesty must mere be fascinated that a beautiful woman was caught in his trap. I'm sure this is only fleeting." Countess Eliza may very well be right. Most mistresses stayed for a time before being dismissed. Logically, thought Navier, she should not feel sad. Her position was safe. However, there is more to life. Try as Navier might to create the perfect empress feelings that had nothing to do with position overwhelmed her. Sovieshu had been her life partner yet so easily desired another.

"Countess... my mother told me... that I mustn't be hurt even if his majesty brings another woman to be his mistress. Because it was such a common occurrence, she advised me not to expect anything different from his majesty." Her façade had fallen. A hand fidgeted, tearing at the fine pink silk of her robe. "Even if his majesty has mistresses, they are merely mistresses. I am the empress. And it's not as if his majesty and I are a pair of star-crossed lovers." It was a poor attempt to cover up the pain. A pain that chilled her to the bone. Countess Eliza's blue eyes sadly regarded her lady, her friend. The look sent a shard of pain into her heart. "But....why is it that I feel so hollow inside?" Her voice was smaller. It carried not her usual imperial tone. She was just a heart broken woman at that moment. "In theory I should be fine...." Countess Eliza hugged Navier. An action that at any other time would have been impertinent. But even a woman such as Navier, one who strived for perfection, needed love.

"The girl shall live her life, his majesty shall live his, and I shall live mine." Was what Navier constantly told herself. She was Navier Trovi, of the House Trovi, a line that produced many empresses. And none would steal what was hers. Yet ignoring Rashta was a mistake.

"I'm Rashta!" The woman who would overthrow Navier was unassuming to the eye. Pretty and seemingly innocent, even Navier had to admit that Rashta had a talent for inspiring sympathy. Those wide grey eyes so easily shed with tears. Tears that set Sovieshu against her.

The months dragged on. In the mean time Sovieshu enjoyed Rashta's attentions, and Navier worked herself to the bone. Throwing herself into work Navier continued her persona. The perfect empress. "But I am not perfect. I am boring. It is Rashta they all adored." Tears of frustration nearly arose. Oh how pathetic she felt, upset over a mistress. Naviers ladies had tried to comfort her. For a time she had comforted herself with the notion that at least Rashta would always be held back by her status.

That did not stop Sovieshu from taking Rashta as an official mistress. Laura raged and Countess Eliza lamented. Navier still retained control. Even with the pain and rage licking at her insides. Worst yet, Navier was excepted to participate in what she felt an absolute farce. Working hard was one thing, having to come to a celebration in honour of the woman who stole her husband was quite another. She wanted to scream. Restraint had become an ever tightening noose. Not even cups of fragrant tea banished her grief. Was she to shoulder all the responsibility of the position without the pleasure? Sovieshu had stopped visiting her chamber. Navier, the most powerful woman in the Easter Empire, lay awake knowing her husband lay with another.

Time past in an agonizing crawl. Sovieshu showed her distain, the court laughed behind her back and Rashta was around every corner. Why could the girl not understand that she wanted to be left alone! Unfortunately there was little she could do. Sovieshu let Rashta run amuck with no thought to propriety. And when Navier had dared to bring it up Sovieshu should treat her with coldness. She felt completely helpless.

"A bird?" The light gold feather were illuminated by sunlight. Amethyst purple eyes blinked slowly. When Navier had teached out to touch it, the bird rose. The birds talons gently closed on her finger. Surprisingly light, the bird stood here on her finger. It little head nudged against her and Navier felt warmth bloom in her chest. Noticing a note Navier untied it. Nobles would sometimes sent notes by bird to one another. Who sent this one? "I am a guest from abroad who will soon arrive at the new years ceremony. and I write this not while drunk." For the first time in months Navier giggled.

The first time Navier laid eyes on Prince Heinry she noticed his light golden hair. Illuminated by the sun, Navier was nearly entranced by it. A man with rumors of cruelty and beauty, Navier could attest to the later. For a moment Navier was taken aback by this prince. This was nothing compared to the shock when he knelt down. Extending one hand Heinry extended a hand. His smile brought the most faint of blushes. When he kissed her hand Navier felt the burn. But it was his words that lingered the most. "It is an honour to meet you, My Queen."

The bird that visited Navier was her sole consolation. It was easier to whisper her fears to the bird than courtiers. A bird could not judge her or tell her worries to the world. However her pen pall frequently sent letters and she eagerly replied. It was the only true escape she could enjoy. Navier did not want to worry her parents, and God forbid Kosair find out. Any day now she expected her elder brother to storm in. Most would be happy to have such a brother. But Navier feared what his anger would bring. So consoled herself with this small happiness. The bird seemed to be the only thing that cared for her. Of course her ladies in waiting were a comfort, but there were even some things she could not tell them.

"I think I am very boring." The words trembled as they left her mouth. Tears rolled down her pale face. This was a fear she had not willingly told anyone. Navier might be a Trovi, but what was she outside of that? The golden bird cooed and nestled in her arms. Sad amethyst eyes looked up at the empress. Her thin finger stroked its feathered head. With an aching heart Navier looked at herself in the mirror. Vanity had never been a strong inclination of hers, although this is not to say she was free of it either. Perhaps that was all she was. A pretty face. She had seen the paintings of past Trovi empresses. Almost all of them had blonde hair, many with green eyes. There was nothing that made her stand out compared to them. On the other hand Rashta was unique amongst mistresses. Looking like an angel that fell from heaven itself, she did not seem to posses the hairs nobility put up. Navier, Empress, a Trovi, felt miniscule in comparison.

In the end Navier felt a sort of numbness. Months of pain and sadness had eroded away any true raw emotion. The pain would come later. The past month all Navier could focus on was leaving the Eastern Kingdom and marrying Heinrey. For the final time she donned her red empress dress. Today she looked every inch the empress she was. 'From now on it will be Queen Navier.' Everything felt so strange. And yet, it felt perfectly in her nature. Duke Kaufman had told her that she might break without the title of "Empress". He was right, even Navier had to admit. She had been born to be empress. Now all that would be gone. 'Who will I be in the west?' That was a question Navier could to say for certain.

She walked down the hall of empresses. Centuries of women who lived and died in this court. Navier had always thought of herself as one in a line. Now she was breaking away. Future empresses would not look to her, merely and embarrassing stain on the family. it would hurt later. Soon the grief would come and Navier would feel like she was falling into darkness. Still, she clung to her childhood attachment. She must remain powerful. She was a Trovi and must behave like one. As the double doors open Navier stepped through. From this day on her fate changed.

The Western Kingdom did not have a gallery of empresses. In fact they had never had an empress before. Now, this did not mean there was nothing commemorating past queens. In a private room where the queen could hold a private audience were small portraits lining the wall. Walking around Navier found the last two. Dowager Queen Krista, and Heinrey's mother. 'King Heinrey will have another gallery built.' Navier was only slightly surprised at this. Of course her husband would want to glory of his newly founded empire to be promoted. What Navier did not expect was for it to be in the throne room. 'So I can always see my wive's beautiful face.' Heinrey said. Such affection made Navier burn up with a feeling she did not fully understand.

Being married to Heinrey was not what she expected. Marrying him had been a means to an end for Navier. Although she liked him Navier thought there was nothing beyond that. Long ago she had spurned romance books. A girl, and now woman, had no need to such fantasies. It was hard to read about lovers when that was not her fate. Love was not in sight for her. Perhaps that was partly why Sovieshu's affair had stung so hard. To have him enjoy the love denied her was torture. Always Navier had settled for the hard reality of seeing others fall in love, just never herself.

Strangely, the marriage was not what she thought it would be. Heinrey, with the reputation of a rouge, had surprised her. He was kind to her in ways no one had before. Small touches he need not have done made something flutter in her belly. Like eating something sweet and feeling its enjoyable after effects. She tried to ignore it and go on with her life. There was lots to do and being an empress gave one no time to rest.

If I allowed myself to be drawn in.....

Just a little closer to the love that he's offering me....

I know I'll find myself helplessly attached to him....

And in that dream she was falling down a great pit into the darkness. Light faded away and down she plummeted. Everything seemed to slip away. Images of Heinrey with other women, leaving her danced about in a mocking parade. She knew what would await her in the end, just as it had with Sovieshu.

She woke up the next morning in tears. Unusually Heinley was not there. He left behind a note that Navier could not bring herself to read. "Are you ready to let me in?" he had asked. Despite everything she had no answer. 'What a wretched unnatural woman I am.' Navier looked down at the tears staining her gown.

Her dream was filled with darkness and falling down...down ...down. She would wake up consumed by the greatest fear. Every time this happened it took her a few seconds to realize she was in bed. Rolling over she would see Heinley sleeping peacefully, likely dreaming sweet dreams. At those times Navier would get up and find somewhere to cry in peace. Sometimes she could not get up at all. Placing a hand over her mouth Navier would dry. She wanted to tell Heinley, but she was scared. This was not a part of her to show, even to a husband. Not even Sovieshu knew these dark part of her heart, her soul.

'Navier.' She had been sitting in a chair. The curve of her expanding belly had a book propped up on it. There were advantages to being pregnant. Heinley had returned from another boring meeting. Kneeling before her, Heinley kissed her belly before getting up. 'How is my wife?' Navier's hand caressed the bump. 'Well. Just very tired.' What Navier left out was the reason for her exhausting. While carrying a baby was no small task, it was her dreams that distressed her so. Concerned, Heinley sat in front of her. 'My love.' 'Hm?' Heinley took her by the hands. 'What worries you?' Suddenly Navier felt a chill descend upon her. She wanted to run away and hide where someone could not find her.

'Simply tired.' Navier knew that was a poor lie. 'Please?' She hated it when Heinley took that tone. Because if he took that tone her walls would fall down, and he would see her for what she was. Her eyes were filling with tears till they poured down pale cold cheeks. And soon, Heinley was holding her as she wept and shook uncontrollably.

'Oh my love. My wife.'

She finally told him.

Four years later....

She watched her Heinley play with the children. Sitting under a tree Navier sewed a gown for their newest child. Beside her sleeping was their second child, a daughter. In the sunlight her new family played, for a time leaving behind the cares of this world. Setting down her work Navier picked her daughter up. Wordlessly cradling the baby Navier sighed contentedly. There was a small smile on her face, gentle. She was lucky, so very lucky.

Briefly she thought upon her former husband. A week past there was news from the east. Sovieshu had sent Rashta away. Four years ago Navier would have danced for joy. Those that had used her carelessly were paying their dues. But now she did not care. Not even pity. That was a part of her life separate from this one. Cruelty did not reside in her heart. Just that she had moved on.

In the near distance Heinley turned around. Those beautiful purple eyes met hers. She could see the love. It had taken time, but Navier knew his heart to be true.

She was not afraid any longer.

Notes: This story is the shortest due to her fate being the same as her canon counterpart. That being said I had fun analyzing Navier's character. The title "The True Empress" was inspired by Alison Weir's book for Catherine of Aragon called "The True Queen". I also felt that it is fitting since Navier embodies what it means to be an Empress. But in a way it becomes a hinderance. Navier becomes so wrapped up in her identity as Empress that she ices out Sovieshu (albeit unintentionally) and closes herself off from those who want to help. Both Navier and Sovieshu seem to have problems communicating their feelings. They ice out the other, Navier ignores the situation and Sovieshu boils in resent. They both posses this fatal flaw which destroys their relationship. Sadly Rashta's arrival was the last nail in the coffin. The next chapter, which is about Rashta, will look into Sovieshu a little more. When it comes to him I think he knows what he wants but never is willing to put in the work for it. When they were children it was easy to be Navier's friend. But he was unable to maintain that relationship, partly due to a lack of communication, and having a "have you cake and eat it too" mentality.

The aesthetic at the beginning points out Navier's turmoil and forgiveness (or at least moving on). Several times in the graphic novel Navier's anxieties about not being enough are point out and even after the divorce it is still a sore spot. The olive branch does not signify Navier forgiving Sovieshu or Rashtsa. It represents Navier making her peace with the past and choosing to move forward, which she does at the end of the one-shot.

My next story is going to be Rashta's so if you like this one look out for the next!

[demoniqt]

Remarried Empress

Summary:

"A divorce," Shen Jiu said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"It's only for a year," Yue Qingyuan said quickly. "Just to legitimise the child."

***

Shen Qingqiu made the decision to cut all ties. It is Yue Qingyuan's loss and Tianlang-Jun is here to pick up the pieces.

Pairing: Past YQY(SJ)/SQQ, Hint of Past TLJ/SXY, YQY/QQQ, SQQ(SJ)/TLJ

Notes:

Warning: Lots of Qi Qingqi and Yue Qingqyuan hate! If you like this 2 characters, please don't continue!

Prologue: Reckless

"A divorce," the words were delivered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"It's only for a year," Yue Qingyuan said quickly. "Just to legitimise the child."

"Then you can let me foster the child," Shen Qingqiu suggested, tone of voice and facial expression still expressionless as he stared at the document in front of him.

"You know I can't do that," Yue Qingyuan said, his tone cajoling. "A-Qi is a noble's daughter. The Qi family will not allow her child to be taken away from her."

Shen Qingqiu snorted, "So, what you're telling me is that even though I am the official spouse, I am no different than a lowly concubine."

"No, A-Jiu!" Yue Qingyuan immediately denied. "It's just for a year. After the child is born, I will remarry you to make you the first spouse again."

"The Qi family will not allow it," Shen Qingqiu returned his words. "They will not let you strip her of the official title."

"Then, I will take you as my second spouse!" Yue Qingyuan promised.

"You could have just made up an excuse to demote me in the first place," Shen Qingqiu said, still speaking in a business-like tone. "Why go through a divorce?"

"I thought of that, but I couldn't just accuse A-Jiu this way," Yue Qingyuan said.

It was such a poor excuse that Shen Jiu couldn't help the burst of mocking laughter that escaped his lips.

"So you went with what Qi Qingqi wanted instead?" Shen Qingqiu said. He was surprised that there were no tears coming despite the levity of their conversation. Perhaps he'd cried so much that there were no tears left. Perhaps his heart was broken into too many pieces too small to be broken again.  

"You thought this was the better option?" Shen Qingqiu questioned. Really, he shouldn't be surprised by the amount of stupidity that Yue Qingyuan was capable of.

"It's only for a year," Yue Qingyuan repeated. "You can stay at the back courtyard and I'll make sure that everything you need is provided."

"You promised that too when we first married," Shen Qingqiu said, taking the document and folding it to slide into the envelop Yue Qingyuan had given him when he first arrived. "Yet there are some days I would starve because your kitchen was having 'shortage'. Imagine that, a first spouse, starving. I cannot imagine what will happen when I am just your abandoned, divorced husband."

"A-Jiu! That's not true! What are you saying!?" Yue Qingyuan asked, looking truly bewildered and accused. Shen Qingqiu just gave him a dispassionate look and got up.

"I understand. No matter what I say, nothing will change," Shen Qingqiu said, bowing to his 'husband' one last time. "Farewell, Lord Yue."

"Wait! A-Jiu, I will have the servants pack your things to send to the back courtyard," Yue Qingyuan said, standing up to follow him to the door. "Don't be angry, A-Jiu. I'll make sure you are taken care of."

Taken care of.. Shen Qingqiu repeated in his heart as he continued walking without a pause. Like you have always?

Through thick and thin he'd stayed with this man. This man who'd once loved him when they were nothing but starving street children. Who'd wanted to stay with him even when his estranged Lord father found him and wanted to take him back. Who'd swore to love him for all their lives when he'd proposed after they were reunited.

"Lord Yue, it will be improper if I stayed at the compound even after we divorced," Shen Qingiqu said, not turning back to the noble-born man he'd once loved. "I will find residence elsewhere."

"Where will you go!?" Yue Qingyuan asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"I will inform you when the time comes. For now, I will return to my courtyard to pack," Shen Qingqiu answered. "Good night, Lord Yue."

"Uhm, yes. Good night, A-Jiu," Yue Qingyuan replied, unsure.

Shen Qingqiu left his ex-husband behind, standing stock still in his study with the candlelight casting a lonely dark silhouette on the door.

He didn't stop walking nor did he start crying now that he was alone. Instead, he headed straight to the guest houses.

In front of the door to a guest room occupied by a foreign dignitary, the tall figure of the guard stood in attention.

"I want to see Tianlang-Jun for a while," Shen Qingqiu said, expecting to be rejected but the general just nodded, opening the door for him without any hesitation. It made Shen Qingqiu wonder what the demon lord had told his subordinates before, to allow Shen Qingqiu such easy access on his person.

"Tianlang-Jun," he greeted, bowing to the demon lord. "I apologise for coming here so late."

Tianlang-Jun got up quickly and guided him up by the elbows. "What is it? Is something wrong? Do you need help? You don't look so well."

"My lord," he said, grabbing one of the large hands on his arm with both of his. He looked up to the demon with glistening eyes, "What you said before, did you mean it?"

Tianlang-Jun stared into his eyes, looking sincere when he said, "Yes, every word."

Shen Qingqiu didn't believe him. Couldn't believe him. After all, Yue Qingyuan said those exact same words to him before they were married.

But Tianlang-Jun was his best bet to leave this godforsaken place.

"Then marry me," Shen Qingqiu said. "Take me away and wed me."

***

Yue Qingyuan and his pregnant wife, Qi Qingqi, were sending off the ambassador of peace sent by the demon world when Shen Qingqiu made his entrance.

Or rather, his exit.

"A-Jiu...?" Yue Qingyuan gaped at him, taking in the sight of him in his old wedding robes.

Through the red veil on his head, he could see Yue Qingyuan making an aborted movement towards him but was stopped by Qi Qingqi's arm on his.

"Qingqiu," Tianlang-Jun greeted, looking happy to see him. He strode forward to offer his arm. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," Shen Qingqiu answered.

"Wait!? Leave!? What do you mean?" Yue Qingyuan questioned, sounding alarmed.

"Lord Tianlang-Jun proposed to me the night before," Shen Qingqiu explained succinctly. "I accepted."

"Since we were leaving and Qingqiu has no family to return to," Tianlang-Jun followed up with the explanation. "We decided to leave from here. Hope Lord Yue will not mind."

Both Yue Qingyuan and Qi Qingqi stared in shock as Shen Qingqiu and Tianlang-Jun headed to the carriage. The demon lord helped his new bride into the carriage before bidding his host farewell one last time.

"Lord Yue, I appreciate your hospitality very much," Tianlang-Jun said with an amiable smile. "I will ensure that the treaty goes through without a hitch."

Without waiting for an answer, the demon lord climbed the carriage and gestured for his nephew to start their journey home. Just as they thought, neither Yue Qingyuan nor his shrew of a wife actually uttered a single protest when the contingent began their procession, the demon soldiers surrounding the carriage to take away their lord and his future spouse.

Tianlang-Jun put down the curtains once the sight of the mansion disappeared, then pulled out his handkerchief. Wordlessly, he handed it to his new bride.

"I do not need it," came the words from under the veil.

He gently pried open the fist crinkling the red silk robes and put the handkerchief in it. The wedding robes were of moderate quality, fitting for some lord's consort maybe. Though it flattered Shen Qingqiu's figure, Tianlang-Jun made a mental note to have someone make new wedding robes for his future spouse.

One befitting an Empress.

"You can cry," Tianlang-Jun said to Shen Qingqiu, not looking his way to allow his new bride privacy. "You can even lean on my shoulder, should you choose to. Even if you don't want it, it will always be here for you."

Under his old wedding veil, Shen Qingqiu choked on his sob as the tears continued to flow, the droplets darkening the silk robes covering his lap.

He thought that he was over this. That he'd cried all he could when Yue Qingyuan first told him that he was marrying Qi Qingqi. Then, on the day the man he loved married another woman. Again and again when Yue Qingyuan repeatedly accused him of being jealous, being vile and scheming against his wife.

He thought that his tears had all dried up.

That the hurt had stopped.

But it felt as if his heart was breaking one last time.

Leaving the house that had been his home for more than a decade.

He still couldn't believe that his life would change so much in just half a year.

*

*

End of Prologue: Reckless

"Each day goes by and each night, I cry Somebody saw you with her last night You gave me your word, "Don't worry 'bout her" You might love her now, but you loved me first Said you'd never hurt me, but here we are Oh, you swore on every star How could you be so reckless with my heart?"

~ Reckless by Madison Beer

Notes:

So the next chapter would be the flashback for what happened 6 months ago. Then after that, a glimpse of SQQ's life in the demon palace. Should take four chapters, because the last chapter is when YQY discovers that his A-Jiu got a glow up.

I recently became invested in a novel called the Remarried Empress and I couldn't stop thinking about how it mirrors the original plot in the novel in the I Wish You Were My Husband by Feynite. So you could say that this is the result of both obsessions marrying and procreating.

But instead of Luo Binghe/ Shen Qingqiu, my terrible brain decided that Tianlang-Jun should be the MC. Just for the heck of it, ya know. Also, because I had so much fun writing about Tianlang-Jun/Shen Qingqiu in my previous fic Mirage of A Dream. Hahaha.

So, tadaa my love child!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Epilogue

[blueroses789]

Name: Navier Ellie Trovi

This is a character prophile for my series "The Empress Strikes Back"

Age:

24 (prologue)

27 (chapter 1)

Status: Empress of the Western Empire

Family:

Emperor Heinrey (husband) Lari Arianna Lazlo (daughter) Violet Christina Lazlo (daughter)*1 Kai Ferdinand Lazlo (son) Kosair Lilder Torvi (brother) Mastas Violet (sister in law) Alexis Henry Torvi (nephew) *2 Marcel Louis Torvi (nephew)*3 Julius Marcus Torvi (nephew)*4 Duke Torvi (mother)*5 Duchess Torvi (father)*6 Wharton 3rd (brother in law) Mckenna (cousin in law) Mastas Violet (sister in law) Kristina Zemensia (sister in law)

oc daughter

oc nephew

oc nephew

oc nephew

unnamed mother

unnamed father

[kendalluvs]

the remarried empress was the first webtoon i've ever read this is so nostalgic 😭😭

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

image: emperor gojo | emperor naoya

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought were in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how were things from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

ha ha . . . so, there will be a part 2 :)

[otakuworks]

Hiiiiiii it's my first time asking, I really love ur genshin works and this may be a very huge request but I've been having a brainrot where Genshin men are in particular manhwa and the reader gets to be the protagonist.

My idea is Xiao as Duke Kedrey from Villainess is a Marionette, cuz he treasure his personal bubble and really is a strong warrior like Raphael.

Maybe Scara as Rezef, it's self explanatory lol

Or Childe as Jeremy Agriche from Roxana. He'll spoil his darling rotten and relationship can be quite toxic but still healthy nonetheless.

Or Kaeya as Heinrey from The Remarried Empress. They're both Casanovas and hot looking❤❤

Or Razor as Nine from Beware of the Villainess.

I know it's too much and you ignore this if you want if it's a bit overwhelming. But if you do, it's okay to not do all of it, I'll be satisfied even just with one. Thank you and have a great day!!!!

❛ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 𝐌𝐋. manhwa au

feat. Xiao, Scara, Childe, Kaeya, Bennett x GN!Reader | wc. 9.1Kaeya

disclaimer. if you haven't read any of these manhwas, don't worry, i won't spoil the story that much anyway. this fic will only be based on the manhwa and I'll try to explain it as the best I can do. and the first few bulleted paragraphs are the overview of the manhwa or the character.

note. this is genius level idea. thank you for requesting, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this prompt and reach 10k words lmao. I never got to write for razor 'cuz I still have to continue reading beware of the villainess but I do have an idea for bennett (my sec fav dps) in this prompt. i might do a part 2 with diluc who knows

cw. psychological, suggestive themes, yandere, childe

main m.list genshin m.list

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 / 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 as 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐘 !

Not a single soul in the Empire does not know the fierce infatuation you harbor for the young Duke Alatus of Kedrey Dukedom. From his stunning golden eyes and dark green hair, everywhere he goes demands spotlight.

Ever since you caught the sight of him in one of the balls you were attending, you clung onto him like a leech, always closing the proximity, writing letters, and initiating conversation with him in hopes he'll reciprocate your feelings

Every interaction fills you with contentment and confidence. You're the eldest child of the Emperor, dignified, stunning and kind. Who wouldn't want an Imperial Nobility like you?

However, you've gotten way too engrossed for your undying love for him that you swept away the constant threat looming above you and your title as the Imperial Nobel.

The ballroom shimmers with golden lights, and the air buzzes with the sound of laughter and polite conversation with the soft hum of elegant music relaxing the nerves in the background, setting the perfect backdrop for the prestigious event where the whole Royal Family would be making an appearance.

Most notable Royal Family member to present was Y/N L/N, whom the rumors were circulating about of plausible marriage proposal to a certain Duke, unsurprisingly.

"Alatus!" You maneuvered your way to him, seemingly shameless for calling his name without his title before it.

"Your Highness." He greeted in such a desultory tone that anyone can deduce he's anything but ecstatic to see you.

You've known how distant and cold he acts toward everybody, but you were cursed with such a dense mind to comprehend he doesn't treat you any different; his stiff actions like simple greeting and short response equates how much he craves to stay furtive, contorted expressions and averting gazes are him expressing his displeasure in your presence and he definitely ignores your letters.

And yet you hope you can change his views of you by approaching him because of your burgeoning feelings. It didn't cross your mind how much he values his personal space and kept on insisting your infatuation, unbeknownst how much it irritates him.

"I'm glad you are here. Did you read my letters? I was hoping for your reply since last month but you remained unresponsive. I thought you might have been busy so you forgot to reply." You rambled on and on, you're too close for his liking but out of respect to your title as the Imperial Highness, Alatus stays silent.

One of the attendants offered you a chocolate dessert and you ate without regards, even offering one to the Duke. "I'm not a fan of sweets, Your Highness." He refused, eyes twitching.

"Oh? I apologize for that. It seems— *COUGH*"

For once, one expression painted the Duke's face out of all the times he wears his stoic facade. However, you don't know if you should be glad he's looking at you like that, he looks mortified.

"Imperial Highness! Quick! Fetch the doctor!" A Duchess yelled with clear distraught as she watches you slumped over the floor, coughing blood and alarmingly paling each second.

This incident is quite common amongst nobles.

You were poisoned.

Whoever did such thing never got to register in your brain as the poison intensifies and you doubled over from the scorching pain. Black dots danced in your vision, tempting to lure your eyes to close and pain only pushed you to do so

You barely registered the rushing footsteps of the guards or the nobles screaming before darkness greeted you like an old friend.

The Imperial Palace busied themselves for the recovery of the eldest royal, it even for busier when you were comatose. Security has been tight since then, there were more than necessary numbers of guards stationed outside your room.

Duke Alatus seems neutral with everything, rumors spread among the nobels that he never care for their highness, Y/N.

While it is true that he shows nothing but malice towards your incongruous advances, he does appreciate your efforts of getting closer on a microscopic level and deep down, there's a tinge of concern pricking his numb heart.

Still, his hatred and pride overpowers his concern, he never once visited you, not that visitors are allowed in the Imperial Palace anyway.

He does ask his informants regarding of your health condition. No one can gauge what thoughts running in his mind when he does so much as stare at the informant with a straight face.

And then one day, he received the news of your recovery, that you're finally awake.

You've been awakened by a startling nightmare that rattled your mind awake. For a comatose person in a cool air room, your forehead is sedimented with perspiration and all you can think of is how to escape from your wretched room.

Your maid came in only to react in astonishment to see you sitting up. When she asks how are you faring, you responded neither politely nor dismissively, when the doctor checked your vitals, you didn't throw a tantrum like you always do.

Behind your veil is a person desperate to survive the Imperial Palace before another catastrophic event occurs in the near future. You have to change your ways, it is for your benefit anyway.

The maid was suspicious of your every changing behavior as you were known for beautiful and luxurious nobel who throws jaundiced looks on anyone who do so much as to stare at Alatus.

Speaking of the Duke, you only realize he has no intention of reciprocating your feelings through the maids during your comatose state because there are times you lay there immobilized but your sense of hearing never fails you.

It was a bitter reality, you genuinely feel infatuated to the Duke and want nothing more but to know him better.

Unfortunately, your ways of showing affection is not appreciated to a man who values his dignity and protects his people first.

You chuckled at your stupidity, it was all spelled out for you to decipher but you chose to remain ignorant to the truth and now you got the deserving consequences of your actions. You suffer.

If time permits, you'd like to steer clear with Duke Alatus and seek forgiveness for the time you made him feel like an unworthy man who only attracts potential suitors by his looks and reputation.

He's so much more than that, and hopefully he'll find the right person who can show him love beyond on what you can give him.

For now you want to focus on running away from the Imperial Palace until the storm passes.

Weeks flew by and you've been attending more social balls to tell the whole empire that you've survived the assassination attempt, to convey nothing can hold you down. But to also give you enough time to map your escape in the palace.

It's not an easy task to fly away from the palace with the noble title on your head. Therefore, you would need someone to help you get away legally.

"M-Marriage?" Sputtered the Duke Alatus.

So much for asking for his forgiveness.

"I'm aware it sounds a salacious scheme to tie you down with me and I can only offer you my sincere words that I no longer bear any infatuation toward you, Duke. I've accepted the fact you have no room for romance and moved on. I hope you do the same and accept this contract. It's beneficial for both parties."

Sure it sounds like a scam and Alatus doesn't want to end up like his friend, Zhongli, who gets scam from left and right.

What baffles him is you sitting with such poise and authority that he no longer can see the past you who kept chasing him for answers to your confessions. You've matured. Mature enough to handle a crucial negotiation.

And it raises the question.

What happened?

He only knows you as the Royal Noble who follows him with lovesick eyes. He wasn't informed you could be downright. . . sexy.

"Your face is red, Duke. Is everything alright?"

"Yes." A pragmatic answer coming from a man punching himself on his mind for thinking lewd things about you.

"I'm not expecting a direct answer now, Duke. Take as much time as you need, but be reminded that I also have limited time. If you are not able to give me your answer within a month, I'll exterminate our negotiation and never speak it ever again."

Silence reigned supreme, the Duke's face never betrayed any emotion while you held your head high as you sip your tea. "I hope to hear your answer soon, Duke Alat—"

"I accept."

You blinked comically. "I beg your pardon?"

"I accept your offer."

"W-What? Are you certain?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms. "I am a soldier, everything I do is with certainty. I do not rush nor stall."

Your eyes escaped his scrutinizing gaze and slapped yourself at the back of your mind. Who were you kidding, of course Alatus wouldn't waste time and prefer to give direct answer. Times like this make you realize you don't know him at all and yet you claimed that you love him. Embarrassing.

"I understand. Starting tomorrow we are publicly a couple within 6 months, you help me with my escape and I'll help you in your foreign affairs under the Royal family's name."

You stuck your hand out for him to shake. "I'll be in your care."

"As I am."

Headline: "Royal Highness Y/N L/N and Duke Alatus Kedrey relationship has recently caused rumors to suggest their Highness Y/N has eloped with the Duke."

"This is an overkill." A nervous chuckle rumbled from you.

"I think it's justifiable." Countered the Duke.

"I believe so. What worries me is your take in this."

A frown settled deep in his eyebrows. "Worried?"

You mirrored his expression. "This headline would most likely attract journalists to interview you, possibly even dig your background to quench their thirst for answers." You paused and walked ahead of him in the garden.

"Knowing you don't like anyone to probe into your private life, it worries me to think about the plausible frauds you'll experience." You couldn't see his expression as you sighed.

Unbeknownst to you, his face is crunched up, forming an expression of what you can call it. . . confusion? Your words perplexed him to a whole new degree.

Weeks ago you were throwing yourself at him, you could care less of his feelings and only care for him to love you back, you did unimaginable things that he finds pathetic. You were selfsh, self-centered and other synonymous words.

But now. . .

Alatus sighed, massaging his temples. No use of thinking hard about their change, it could be a facade to let my guard down. As if that would ever happen anyway.

"I am not worthy of your concern, Your Highness. Please be rest assured that mere words won't affect this contract."

"Y/N."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Y/N when we're in public. It'd cause a stir if a couple address each other formally. Would it be alright if I call you by your first name?"

Again, you're being unusually solicitous for him. He was too stunned to speak and you took it as a negative sign.

"Do tell me when you're comfortable enough to let me call—"

"Why are you like this?" He bluntly asked.

You blinked owlishly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Why are you pretending to be nice?"

You inwardly sighed. Of course there's no way he'll fall for your 'nice change' if anything, it made him more suspicious of your behavior. But really, you're showing genuine care for his needs and always try your best to assist him.

"I highly doubt you remember our first meeting, for you it might've been the worst day of your life. For me? It was the opposite."

"What?"

"My father is not as loving and caring for most people would think. Oh no, he's far from those, he's cruel and abusive." Alatus' eyes sharpened at the indication of domestic violence.

"He only saw me as a child who'd bring glory to the Empire, he cares for what value I can impart on behalf of his reputation. I have the beauty after all, but not the brains nor brawns. And he couldn't be satisfied with it." A bitter chuckle came from you.

"When I saw you at the ball, I was mesmerized like most men and women at first glance. You're dignified, strong, insightful and top of that you're undeniably gorgeous. I admire you like the rest of the population because you have everything my father wanted from me. I thought all those qualities were unreachable, and yet you exist. You made me feel inferior and I became insecure of myself. I only have my pretty face, without it I'm nothing but a disposable ornament. Do you know who poisoned me that night?"

He says nothing for a little while. He knew the answer right before you even asked. "Your father." There's a bite in his words.

"Perceptive as always, Duke Alatus." He couldn't match your careless words. If he was perceptive he would've figure out you feel threatened at your own home. He— Archons! He's pissed!

And for what reason? He asked himself.

"I pursued you since then, thinking my father would change the way he treats me if I had you with me, a perfect son-in-law— maybe then he'd look the way I expect a loving father would." Fists clenched, you tightly closed your eyes.

"I was a fool, alright. When he realized you're not interested in me, he deemed me worthless, hence why I was poisoned. He wanted to eliminate a thing that has no value anymore. It took me years to realize that he would never love me. No one would."

You've never experienced love, let alone how to show it properly. Only the Duke Alatus ever made you feel like a human worthy of showing basic manners to you without the influence of your title.

Your first meeting with him left a huge impression. It was at your debutant party, nobles attended and gossips were shared. A night that should've your spotlight, but it felt far from it.

For instance, you constantly felt out of place, as if you don't really belong in the social groups of nobility. Which was richly hypocritical, considering you also had an appetite for attention over individuality. The dichotomy left you uncertain on many occasions and you felt obligated to mask yourself behind a much more "proper" exterior. You can't define what's exactly proper, and so you would always second guess everything you do as feeble as greeting a new face and ask yourself if it's at their satisfactory.

At the end of the night, no one even noticed the star of the night had gone missing amidst their debut celebration. All except one.

Perched on the rim of the fountain, your bare feet submerged in the pool of water.

The cold sensation is strangely comforting, add the cool breeze of the night and you feel oddly at peace. Somehow contradictory to what you've read in romance books that people under stress usually crave the warmth of their partner. Perhaps the absence of love made you hunger for whatever's available for comfort, starving people will eat anything after all.

"Reduced to just sitting around. How absurd."

A frightening shriek escaped your lips, you made a hasty turn as the water splashed as you move. But that soon morphed in relief, the man in front of you impose no danger, if anything you'd feel the safest in his presence.

Duke Alatus is revered as the Hero in his Liyue Empire, the strongest fighter and apparently most handsome man to exist. And boy do those rumors did him any justice.

You've seen him from afar and couldn't help but fall for him at first sight, you wanted to get closer but you were always reminded how worthless you are and that someone like him would never bother batting their eyes to you.

And yet, he's here. In the flesh.

"What are you doing here?" You praised yourself for not stuttering in his presence. He merely shrugged before standing a few meet away from where you're sitting.

"I missed the chance to greet the host a blessed birthday, only to know that they've disappeared. Do you have a habit of playing hide and seek among your peers?" The satirical undertone must've flew over your ear and you looked at him, slightly aghast.

"H-How did you know I wasn't there?"

No one paid attention to you. So why would he?

He sighed, "Didn't you hear me? I was going to greet you but you somehow vanished in your party."

"You searched for me?"

He scoffed, "I'm here, aren't I? What kind of host would leave their debutante party behind?"

"You could've gone with your evening without pleasantries. It wouldn't reflect on your reputation, only mine, so why bother go all through this trouble to find me?" He gave you a blank look, but his eyes blinked in slight disbelief at your query.

"It wasn't trouble finding you, really. . . unless you prefer being alone at the moment, I can leave."

"No! I mean — ehem. . . you can stay." You muttered, an underlying embarrassment was present in your voice.

He perched an eyebrow. "You are an odd one as the rumors say."

It was a turning point to you. Being emotionally repressed and touch starved you are, you wanted more after the first sign of attention from him.

He gave you an ounce of your need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be worthy of someone's time. It was enough for you to take it as a sign to pursue him.

But you realized a little too late that he would never reciprocate your feelings and the so-called "love" you have for him is the result of years being deprived from any compassion. You've mistaken hunger for love.

"Now you know the reason behind my desperation of escape and the need to change in order to succeed. Truthfully, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing of being considerate and all that. I have to apologize for making such attempts without researching." You made a mental note to visit the library later.

"Anyway, I've said many things today. Let's settle — OMPH!"

A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and you were pulled backwards, only to softly bumped against a firm chest. "H-Huh? What's the matter, Duke?" You dumbly asked as you tilted your head up to glance at him.

His bangs shrouded whatever expression he has on his face. "You have my permission to call me Alatus, be it in public or private."

"Oh, OK." You're quite baffled what his actions are supposed to convey. Isn't he supposed to dislike physical contact?

"I first saw you as an incompetent noble, a typical royalty who's strength is heavily reliant on outward beauty." Damn, you should add straightforwardness in your compliments for him. "I've seen pretty faces everywhere, yours is nothing special."

"I've heard enough!" You tugged away from his grip, stinging tears threaten to fall. To think your only strength has been trampled on just like that feels like your hope vanishing. Your face is your only gateway to freedom and it—

"Tis why I am amazed to see you acquiring new strengths in your arsenal." E/C eyes found themselves clashing with Alatus' golden hues, there's a glint of emotion you couldn't decipher.

"Your Hi — Y/N, I promise to get you out of this hellhole. Our contract can exceed the 6 month rule for all I care." A blooming emotion spreads in you. He cares enough to finally notice you and your pain, and he's here to help you.

Don't get the wrong idea, self. He's helping me as an ally because he has a good heart. But I know I don't deserve someone so kind and he doesn't deserve someone so broken. I understand our fate is only meant for this; my savior and his misfortune.

You sighed as you remind yourself with that set boundaries. "You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you, Alatus."

"There's nothing to be grateful for. I'm happy to help someone in need, it's more than enough."

You smiled. And his heart skipped a beat.

A pretty face with a genuine bright grin.

You're beautiful when you're being you.

No bitterness. No ill-concealed pain. He has to rethink his words about your ''mediocre'' beauty.

It pisses me off when you sell yourself short with degrading thoughts, you're no mere ornament. You deserve to be loved, Y/N. I admire your strength and determination. You're a lot stronger than I was when I needed the strength to fight, you're someone I aimed to be in my darkest time. So, keep going and don't ever hesitate to call my name for help.

Little did they both know, Y/N was falling out of love while Alatus is falling in.

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐈!𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 as 𝐑𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 !

Many wise nobles would not dare cross paths with Prince Scaramouche Hill, his temperamental issues and rude behavior garnered him the reputation of a tyrant, but Y/N L/N had never counted themselves among the very wise.

You're the main character in every horror movie that instead of getting away from the first sign of danger, you run towards it because. . . why not? Where's the story if they'd just run away?

Wouldn't you guess it. You accepted his marriage proposal.

Now the question lingers: WHY?!

"Now, now. . . There is no need for such hasty decisions, for if such marriage were to be cancelled, then so too would the beneficial ties between our families. Is this what you truly want? A marriage for political convenience is what is being sought here, not love."

His ingenious words has been embedded in your mind ever since you avidly rejected the marriage proposal from the Empress herself. Making it much more difficult to retire on grounds of a healthy rejection was a rather callous way of dealing with part of the problem when the Prince himself outrightly called you out.

From the get-go, he was a walking red flag blessed with bewitching charms that you have fallen victim to. You've heard the rumors, he's anything but a saint, his looks might say otherwise but you've acquainted with his ugly side to conclude that your life will be full of thorns once you've wed.

This callous sentiment should chill you — maybe it would, if you heeded the alarm bells ringing in your mind — but fascination triumphs over any deterrent. What would it be like to get to know this Prince? Can I make this marriage work?

#icanfixhim

The wedding ceremony went smoothly, vows were pronounced and rings were exchanged. Though the two of you never really said it aloud, you both weren't ready for the. . . "marital duties"

For tonight, the servants prepared the room the newlyweds will share with unimaginable extravagance, there were rose petals littered in a heart shaped in your bed, candles on each of the bedside table and two bottles of what it looks like strong liquor across the room, definitely intended.

You entered the shared room gripping your nightwear and promptly chugging down the liquor at your leisure.

Scaramouche is yet to come in this new room, part of you hoped you'll be too drunk to fulfill the marital duties. But as you look at the window, mirroring your inner turmoil, you know it's pointless.

It’s a moonless night, heavy with the weight of regret, shattered dreams and a long road of loveless marriage.

You clutched the remnants of your sanity and drowned yourself in the bitter solace of liquid courage to feel the emotions you’d been avoiding. If you'll lose everything in one night, might as well be under the influence to numb the feelings away.

The bottle was harshly snatched from your hand. "Do you plan to do this while you are drunk? Is this what they have taught you?" Came from your new husband.

The liquor did the best job to give you the courage to speak up to him, something that you lacked when he snagged your confidence at the lowest as you rejected this marriage.

"Someone has to be educated in the bedroom?" There's a sardonic undertone as you sway your head. "Well, pardon me, Prince. You barged in my home, proposed this bullshit and expect me to be knowledgeable in the art of pleasure in one week?"

You drunkenly stood up and mustered your best glare-that-can-put-you-sixfeet-under. "You. . . I gave you a benefit of a doubt and accepted this marriage thinking you're a subject of those biased rumors, but you absolutely pale in comparison."

This is where you're expecting expletives insults from him, his pride has been put to the test and Scaramouche was not known for his leniency.

In your drunken stupor, only the blur outline of his masculinity shadows your figure. Before you could retort anything else, he had lunged himself to you, specifically towards your lips.

Surprised marred your drunken face, what's more surprising was how gentle he moved his lips with yours, you'd expect him to be rough in intimacy which what greatly contributed to your anxiety but his gentle actions made you think otherwise.

Are we really doing this?

A hand cupped your cheek as if guiding you to tilt your head to the side while yours gripped the bed sheets. His lips traversed the corner of your lips down to your jaw, rendering you speechless as breathy moans escaped.

He must have noticed your reaction and promptly detached himself from you and you can finally breathe.

"I'm only marking you," His voice was incredibly soft, it was like another soul possessed his body, "We both don't want this. . . whether by obligation or not and I won't cross it. At least by marking you, it'll make people think we have done it."

Scaramouche raised your chin slightly and lifted your face towards him. Now both your faces were looking at each other. He was staring deep into your eyes, as if he was looking for your permission.

There's a certain way Scaramouche takes in your appearance — a thorough observation that doesn't miss the smallest detail about you.

What he sees are things he's familiar with. An enticing body and face which speaks of power and a strong will. A sharp mind, which makes him feel he's found an equal in intelligence. Someone who he wouldn't have to manipulate or trick into submission. . . because he knows he could get there with affection and a proper hand. And, perhaps above all, the way you look at him. As he does to you. . . there's a burning desire.

Why does he have to make this difficult for me?

His hands slide over your body in a smooth, slow way which makes your mind go numb. His hands cup you and caress the shape of your form. Your eyes close as his hands take their place in your hair. . . holding it like a trophy.

With the way he was raised by the Empress, Raiden Shogun, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Scaramouche views you as a property to own rather than a living human who possessed feelings.

The taste, the feeling of his lips against your neck, his breath against your neck. It's intoxicating. . . and leaves you gasping for more and your stomach fluttering. You feel his lips trail towards your neck, and just when you thought he'd move up to your lips — he sinks his teeth in just enough to leave a mark without hurting you.

"This should be enough."

As quickly as he left the mark so was his presence in the room as he hastily stood up and left without making so much noise.

The morning after your consummation, you thought he might treat you a little better than before but he seemed to have reversed back to his old self once again. Archons!

When nothing goes his way he'll use you as a ventilation, and you took every jabbing words and flying objects thrown. You never once complained, not when you know his soft side.

Pitied looks and whispers of sympathy were your daily highlights, everyone in the castle knows how badly the Prince has been treating you since the first day. But that's not true, he treated you like a human on your consummation night, he was more than a Prince with temper tantrums.

If only you can understand His Highness, though. Try as you might. . . You just didn't get him. It seemed like he was made up of several personalities that were constantly getting in each other's way.

"Fuck." Scaramouche was now slumped on the floor.

It was one of those days he'd use you as his target of frustration, nothing new. Scaramouche has tendency to temper tantrums. But today, his eyes brimmed with tears.

Scaramouche himself probably wasn't aware of his vulnerability, he would immediately leave your room and do god knows what.

"Your Highness?" Your meek voice was barely comprehensible in his ears, he was visibly trembling with his head tucked in his arms.

"Go away!" Despite his harsh refute, there's an underlying tone of a defeated man. It hurts to see him like this, nobody deserves to experience pain no matter the circumstances of their birth — Scaramouche shouldn't be an exception to this.

"But you're in pain." You frowned deeply and kneeled beside his trembling form, far enough to not trigger his fight or flight instinct.

"I'm always in pain!" He was shouting and mumbling to himself, but it didn't slip past your senses that he was almost whining about his situation, similar to a child crying out for his mother.

"You don't have to be if you let people help you."

"Help me. . .?" He reiterated the words as if it's in foreign language.

A sense of dread flood your senses as you silently gulped, but you remained rooted in your spot beside him.

"Yes, I know you're not used to it, you're probably denying it in your head as I speak. I won't force you to seek help, but know that someone would be willing to help you." Lies, he knew your words were baseless reassurance to make him feel better.

"Yeah, and I treat you well." He sputtered those words with condescending ire and finally look up to you with so much loathsome in his purple eyes. "You're no different than the people who have deceived me."

Your eyebrows shot in surprise. So he had people who took him for granted? It's no wonder he was shaped like this — spiteful and vindictive. It was easier for him like this, to let people hate him than take advantage of whatever's left of him.

"I'm not deceiving you, Your Highness. I'm willing to help you."

"Do you take me as an idiot? Words hold no value or truth behind them." He spat bitterly and a firm scowl marred his expression before he sauntered to the exit.

"Willing?" He scoffed and finally stood up, unraveling his height that was only inch taller than yours. "Don't make me laugh, people like you always have ulterior motives to help."

"I'm not like one of those people. I give you my word for that."

"Your words prove me nothing. Get out of my sight!"

"But this is my room. . ."

His eyes twitched. "This is our room."

"Okay! I'll go!" You surrendered and stumbled your way out of the room without looking back.

Scaramouche wasn't aware when it began, he does know the feeling started off as a small simmer from a pot of heated water. He finds himself beginning to notice every small detail of you.

It began with him noticing the small dimples on your cheek when you smile or laugh with your full heart instead of the prim and proper laugh from etiquette lessons.

He noticed your habits depending on your mood — your hands become restless when anxious, your eyes dart anywhere but his eyes when you're uncomfortable, or the way you bit your lip when feeling awkward.

Is this. . .

Love. Scaramouche hated that word for love is always affiliated with trust which both reeked of vulnerability, and the sort of emotion that the Prince couldn't afford to display — not when all it had ever done in the past was cause him torment. The past, he had felt resentful because the Empress had handed over too much baggage unilaterally to him — his Princely upbringing, the sole heir duties, arranged marriage. Damn it all.

Thereafter, he had acquired unnecessary headaches from his supposed spouse. He had wrongly assumed your character, for after showing you early signs of his apparent animosity, it only fed your burning curiosity.

He was quick to chalk it up as your naivety, you did reject the proposal for the sole purpose of finding true love.

Only fools would expect love from a mere paper contract. If he had any sympathy left he would gladly drown you with it.

But his assumptions got stomped when you displayed regal actions against the nobles who badmouthed you about the marriage. It was expected that negative rumors would spread and most people would merely pretend they're deaf. You, on the other hand, confronted them and stood up for yourself.

You're far from naive, it seems. If not naive, then what's driving you to endure his treatment and keep leeching from him? The question blanketed his mind for weeks.

You, who's ever curious about the Prince and the the said Prince befuddled by your actions. Put it together and it creates subtle transition in your relationship.

He starts letting you engage him in conversations, as silly as they were sometimes. His answers were still brimming with condescension and ire, but somehow you couldn't shake the feeling that they somehow lacked the bite. . . the intention to hurt.

Or maybe you were just too numb to register it. Either way, you're liking the subtle changes in your relationship.

"HEY!" You gasped and bolt right up, trickle of perspiration on your temples. "W-What. . .?"

Scaramouche was beside you, his usual glare plastered on his face, but his hands are drawing circles on your back, soothing your labored breaths.

For every shift, there's the touch of his hand, the sound of his smooth voice that promises to protect you. His eyes follow you even in your shaking — the light reflected in them assuring that they won't disappear.

"Relax, reality is more often terrifying than nightmares."

Very reassuring.

Scaramouche's expression is somber as he regards you in the dark. There's a bit of hesitation before he reaches out to you. . . embracing you, like a blanket being your safe haven from the Boogeymen.

"I'm here, there's no need to fear." He whispered quietly as his grasp adjusts to be gentler against the softness of your skin as you trembled.

This is him. This is Scaramouche Hill.

This is what you were curious and hoping to see from him. No pedantical micromanagement, no cruelty born of mistrust and ill experience. Just Scaramouche, passionate, attentive and content. Kind in his own way, sardonic and inquisitive, not as selfish as everyone assumed. It was such a privilege to see it.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 as 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 !

They say there's a fine line between sanity and madness — Childe Agriche has a foot on both sides. And as the youngest son in the House of Black Agriches, he's the most 'normal' and 'enthusiastic' being you can meet in the manor.

You were a simple commoner who heard the rumors circulating the Black Agriches, if it taught you anything is that Agriches repay kindness with gold and insults with death. Yeah, a family you won't dare to cross with.

Apparently you don't share the same sentiment as your parents as they were too deep of their dept with the Agriche.

But they were spared and in exchange of their mercy, your parents sold you off with them to work in their house. They didn't even bat an eye and shoved you down to your knees.

You felt every kinds of betrayal that exist and snitched on your parents by exposing them of their illegal deeds and what they did to their money that put them in that situation.

Enraged, the head of the Agriche swiftly beheaded them and took you in the manor. It was a relatively quiet mansion, you thought you were going to die in the next few hours but you found yourself suddenly face to face with gleaming mischievous cerulean eyes that seems to enrapture you.

"Who you might be? A new toy for my siblings?" His jovial tone makes you think he's such a harmless creature, which was proven incorrect when he suddenly revealed of wanting you as his pet.

Did he mean slave? Surely he won't potty train you or tell you to sit and roll in front of strangers like a child(e), would he?

"Stand down, Childe. This is Y/N, a new addition of our workers." His father introduced before lighting a cigarette.

He scoffed, "We already have so many workers. Why don't they just become my pet instead?" You had to hold back the broadening of your eyes at this. What on Earth is wrong with these people?

The head of the Agriche merely shrugged as he waves a dismissive hand. "Do what you want." Your heart dropped at the nonchalant response. It'd be better if you get to work in the mansion, not be someone's slave.

An arm was suddenly draped over your shoulders. "Awesome! My name is Childe Agriche, you're now my new pet. So, let me break it down for you; you obey, reward. You disobey, punishment. Simple."

Did I mention he enjoys toying with his victims and making them his pet? Pet, as in putting a collar and chaining you up in the basement? And what was that again? He's supposed to be the most normal?

You're either stuck in a room where he claims to be your cage or following him in around the manor with the collar still on.

At first, you were scared what he might do to you, but it turns out he really honors his words. You obey him and nothing bad will ever happen to you. It really is that simple as he said.

You've heard how other Agriches tend to torture their pets for doing mistakes or even obeying as they're told. You haven't seen the display of power within the Agriches for Childe insists you stay in your cellar room, but the rumors you've heard guaranteed your every caution in meeting new people in the manor, even a maid.

With Childe, however, it doesn't automatically warrant punishment for a simple mistake. He opts to teach you what's right and wrong.

It's unbelievable how patient he is with you, it's more unbelievable to think he's an Agriche with this kind of attitude.

One day, he entered your cell and announced that you'll be living together with him in his room. The collar will have to remain for the sake of your 'safety' as he claimed. Thus, you found yourself laying on a thin satin silk mattress that left no little discomfort.

It didn't seem like he has many tasks to deal within the household, he'd occasionally be away for a few hours before returning bloody murder with crimson stains on his royal clothes.

Driven by a tinge of concern, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking. "What happened? Are you alright?" It was the first time you had seen him what the rumors would potray about him.

His eyebrows furrow in bafflement. "You're. . . asking me if I'm alright?" He asked, almost in disbelief that such question exists.

"Of course! Look at your clothes. How can you expect me not to worry?" Your courageous episode ended when you realized the mistake, you lowered your head. "I apologize. I didn't mean to come out as impudent—"

Your statement was cut short when a cold hand grasped your chin and tilt your head up. Those cerulean eyes never fails to instill the butterflies in your stomach.

"I didn't realize how cute you are until now." His voice dropped a few octaves low it sent shivers in your spine, "Nobody has ever asked about my health, and then there's you — chained up in my bed, concern for me." He chuckled, the type of chuckle that tells you he enjoys a good prey, that he likes how far you will go for him— he's testing you.

Even being concern can get you in trouble?! What's next? I'm getting punished just by breathing?!

"I don't mean no harm." Your demure voice only made him more elated.

"Oh, dear Y/N. Even if you do, there's no way you can land a hit on me," he paused, swiping his tongue out to wet his lower lip. "But fortunately, I'm a masochist myself. I might allow you to bite me if you behave~"

He really is an Agriche.

"Getting back. Are you really OK?" It took every innermost strength in you to divert the topic.

In response, he flashed you a cheeky smile before his hand slowly descended on the base of your neck. Latching his gloved fingers around until he's holding you in a chokehold.

He hasn't done anything, yet your breath hitched.

"You're so small and vulnerable, I can easily snap your neck like this." Proving his point, he added pressure which now made you choke and clasped your hands on his wrist out of reflex. "And yet, you're asking me if I'm OK?"

The pressure on your neck didn't loosen one bit, it feels like he has no intention of actually hurting you, just setting an example of what he can potentially do to you.

You barely can breath, not only because of his hold on your neck, but also the fact he's unbearably close your breaths are mingling as you exhale. You feel like fainting.

"B-Because I don't like seeing you hurt!"

His expression dropped instantaneously. An undecipherable emotion passed his countenance as his strands casted shadow over his blue eyes.

"T-Tartaglia?" Was his alter ego.

He insisted on you calling him by that name.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you care?"

You ask yourself the same question, any sane person wouldn't think twice to care for a cold hearted killer, but any sinner like him wouldn't treat you with such kindness.

"Is such reason needed? I saw you stained with blood, it's natural for me to fret."

". . ."

". . ."

"Aww~" He cooed, finally loosening the hold on your neck.

What an odd reaction. You took a huge inhale and nearly slide down as your knees weakened, but he has his arm around you to keep your equilibrium in balance.

You felt his gloved hand tilting your chin up, his bright blue eyes swirled with emotions you couldn't deduce.

Everything he's doing alerts your senses to run, but your body just craves for more of his touch. Archons above! I'm losing my mind! The way he looks you like a predator — a hungry and sadistic animal, looking to ravage your soul. He's a dangerous, charismatic and highly intelligent man. A twisted fantasy.

"You know what, you'll be my significant other!"

"WHAT?!"

"And you should call me Ajax from now on, too!"

How many names does he have?!

The next thing you know was Childe's entire personality shifting. He freed you from the chains and treats you like a true royalty. Childe innate possessiveness of you increased tenfold after he was exposed to your gentle side.

Overwhelming was the right word for what you felt after a few days of his behavior.

But your "boyfriend" kept insisting in gift giving, it's his primary love language. You mentioned your favorite food? He'll have it on the dining table. You fancy a clothing? Consider the whole shop yours. Someone being an asshole to you? Expect a dried head by your doorstep.

Make no mistake in kidnapping his S/O — he'll rain down all kinds of hell. Sadly (not really) some people just don't heed warnings and accept death so readily.

The temperature in the room seemed to grow colder in cadence with the ice in Childe's gaze. "You mean to tell me, that you are all incompetent to do a simple task of guarding my room where my S/O was? And now they're gone?"

*SPLAT* *THUMP*

One head rolled over

Nobody breathed.

"For every minute you fail to bring the culprit in my playroom equates for a head. If I happen to find them before any of you — don't expect a one way to ticket to hell. I will guarantee to entertain all of you along with the perpetrators."

Childe Agriche loves to play and this was one of his games. Touche! As if he can expect those vacuous idiots to find Y/N.

The door closed with an ominous boom that echoed throughout what sounded like a massive but empty chamber.

Childe knew anger, he was well acquainted with the said red emotion but he had always try to mask it under the pretense of a funny and boisterous man. This time however, he's been uncharacteristically calm and everyone in the manor feels like walking on a tip of a knife.

They wouldn't understand, none of those imbeciles would know what it feels to be with Y/N. He scoffed as he sharpens his arrowhead before placing it in his quiver. There was no time to waste, he wants you back in his arms.

And he did.

With bloodshed, of course.

"GAHHH!"

Childe moved swiftly and gracefully, so much so they had trouble keeping up with him. He came up behind one of the culprits the one that was holding you captive, and broke his neck rather quickly before slashing at another who was nearby.

He quickly ducked, avoiding the enemy coming up from behind, and grabbed his arm, flipping him over, and pinning him down. Suddenly a loud shrill was heard as a bone cracked, and then he moved on the other.

Blood dripped from his fingers, but before a drop could even hit the floor, he’d already struck dead another one, splattering even more blood. One by one the went down, until they’d all been wiped out, annihilated by their supposed prey. They were outmatched by the youngest Agriche.

And by the glint in Childe’s cerulean eyes, he was clearly enjoying the thrill of the kill. The Agriche barely even broke a sweat, his breathing remaining even despite the number of men he had been fighting against him.

Against the occluded moon, he stalked towards your unconscious form and lifted you bridal style, Childe looked more like a predator than a lover, a hunt ending with the prey pinned and helpless. The smell of death permeated the frigid air. Only corpses lay around him.

Holding the unconscious Y/N in his arms, his expression did not once flinch. It was as if he was only holding a feather. Amidst the night, his figure glided on the ground agile and light, before finally disappearing behind the shadows of the nearby trees. . .

You woke up a little disgruntled and already felt the pain in your head flaring as soon as you forced yourself awake. So much for being Childe's S/O, it comes with a free package of his enemies hunting you down.

"Y/N, you're awake." You heard an unusually soft voice beside you as you felt the bed shifts in weight followed by a bone crushing hug from your-supposed-lover.

Pain flared in your abdomen and you had to bite back a grimace. "I swear you're not leaving my sight ever again." His breath is like the scent of night-blooming jasmine on the breeze: soft and soothing, yet sweet and enticing, effectively distracting you from the pain.

If you only you had witnessed the bloodshed you would think twice than to fall for his honeyed words.

"Y-You have blood on your clothes. . ." The indication of your query made him smirked. "It's my trophy."

You decided not to probe any further. In his language, that meant another massacre to stain his clothes and it only means whoever abducted you reached the other side as such a young age.

"Thank you for saving me. . ."

His eyes softened as he chuckled. "You're thanking the same man who shed blood for you?"

"I'm thanking the man who cares enough about me." You refuted.

You were too absorbed in hugging him back that you failed to notice the eerie smile on his lips. His next words were spoken next to your ear, laced with obvious unhinged obsession over you.

"Right, I'm the only one who would save you in face of danger and care for your well-being. No other people can do as much as I can for you, so stay with me forever, Y/N."

Was it your imagination or did you just see a psychotic grin?

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 as 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 !

How atrocious can your life get when you learned the news of your husband handpicking a concubine for himself, then the said trash woman actually has the guts to call you her in-law just because you have the same husband.

Now, you pride yourself for being patient, courageous and intelligent. You wouldn't have ruled an empire if it wasn't for your educated upbringing. But even a ruler like you can feel overwhelmed and burned out, and would find a temporary solace to cry your heart out.

The fact your husband picking his concubine is not the issue inconveniencing you the most. It was his and that man-stealer attitude is what suffocated you the most.

Outrageous to see the trash playing the victim card and shedding fat crocodile tears just to earn your husband's favor. Audacious to think of herself as the same level as you when she doesn't even know basic etiquette rules and the difference between a garbage and herself. Humiliating on how he made you a fool on many occasions and sided with his mistress while everyone whispered on how the Emperor favored his concubine over his own S/O.

And he dare say you're not allowed to have an affair?

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Which lead you in a secluded forest to vent out your feelings and temporarily get away from all that's happening in the palace. You're perched beside a rock while your head is tucked in your crossed arms, burying your head, silently weeping in the depths of the green environment.

*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*

You reluctantly raise your head to investigate the noise, of course you knew it was some type of bird, but you were curious what type of bird it was as you rarely get to visit nature. You'd appreciate a little company even if it's from an avian creature.

Majestic, charming, jaw dropping, and everything synonymous to the word beautiful can be attached to this mystical bird.

What caught your attention the most was its beautiful midnight blue and cerulean ombre feathers, you've never seen such bird in the books you've read let alone see one in real life. Next was its body that's bigger than your head and a wingspan that's almost in par with the length of your arms spread open. And lastly, the note tied to its leg.

"How beautiful. Will you allow me to touch you?" You didn't even notice yourself nearing the bird. A slight hesitance made you flinched when the bird nailed its bright eyes on you. Even the eyes resembled the finest jewel in your kingdom.

You retracted your hand under the assumption you had scared the bird. However, the surprise entered your face when the bird flapped its wings and perched on your suspended hand in the air. It looks like it doesn't sense you as a threat. That's a good start.

Admiring nature's blessing, you caught the note tied to its legs which made you think if this bird is a pet of some noble. "Hmm, are you lost? Based on your looks, you don't look like a wild animal that happened to stumble upon this forest by accident."

You took the note from its feet and read the content;

"I am a guest from abroad who will soon arrive at the new year's ceremony, and I write this note while drunk."

An amused chuckle left your lips as you look back at the bird who's tilting its head in curiosity of your reaction. "I'm sorry, your master sounds like an interesting person and a pain in the back. I feel bad you lost your way here. Hmm. . . should I write back?"

It wasn't even a question, you hastily fish out your pocket pen and wrote a sassy reply at the back of the piece of parchment. Hopefully it doesn't offend the owner of the bird.

You tied the note once again the rubbed its head one last time. "Off you go, little one. Deliver my message to your drunk master and fly your way back home safely."

The bird spreads its wings before taking flight.

You sighed once you lost sight of the avian creature.

Suddenly, you were harshly reminded of your duties and the circumstances you're currently in. As much as possible you don't really want to deal with another mistress-related issues within the palace and have your husband pin the blame on you. Crestfallen, you made your way back to the palace.

What you didn't know was the pair of jewel-like eyes following your movement from one of the tallest trees.

"What an interesting person." A man chuckled as he held up the note that was recently tied to his leg.

It was none other than the blue avian creature that has assumed the image of a man possessing a tanned complexion and navy-blue hair with streaks of lighter blue, accompanied by a waist-length lock of hair that's being held by a low ponytail.

As he reads the content of your message, he couldn't help but feel intrigued by what had occurred prior to you noticing his presence. Why were you crying? Crying doesn't suit a beautiful person like you, especially a sassy one at that.

"Your bird has found its way to me, if it is able to find its way back, I shall be relived, for it means it must be cleverer than its inarticulate drunk master." Sassy yet regal, indeed.

A lopsided grin adorned his lips. "So it seems I must cleverly find my way back to you if I want to see you again, Your Highness. And I must say, I love a good challenge."

Days have become grueling for you to endure, but you persevered through it all. The mistress has become more comfortable in causing ruckus in the palace just to get the Emperor's attention on her.

You don't really care about all the shenanigans she's planning to pull so long as it doesn't interfere in your line of work as a wise ruler.

Then one day, the similar bird you found in the forest came flying at your balcony and kept scratching the glass pane to get your attention.

You gasped once you realized who it was. "It's you again. How are you so good in finding me?" And it seems as though it has a new note attached to its leg.

"I'd like to think I'm a bit more intelligent than a bird. I've now woken up from my drunken stupor."

You giggled at the person's confidence. "Lumine, get me a pen and paper, will you?" You addressed to your attendant standing by the doorway.

"It seems as if you haven't woken up completely. What is the bird's name?"

Lumine, your attendant, commented at the ardor look on your face. "It's fun for you too, isn't it, Your Majesty?"

"A bit. . .?" You coyly replied, this little interaction with the bird and its master is the highlight of your day. Not even the whole mistress thing can be bothered right now.

As if challenging your thoughts, your husband walked in after you just sent away the bird with the letter of yours.

The conversation was tad too accusing, saying you're spreading rumors about the mistress to drag her down. Ha! Even if the rumors were false, it speaks volume.

You left the palace once again, to your safe haven.

It seems as though it's going to be your hobby to seclude yourself when no one's watching and let the nature be a witness of your depressive moments.

*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*

Hearing the familiar flapping, you subconsciously stretched out your arm for the bird to land.

"It's you again!"

And a new note.

"Is such thing needed? You may name it, if you'd like."

"What an indifferent master." You sighed at the response and gaze at the bird. "A kind, intelligent bird like you deserves a name which befits your character. So your name shall be. . ."

"Queen."

Unbeknownst to you, the bird bristled at the name.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Queen. I'm in good spirits now, thanks to you." You embraced the bird and pecked its beak. "I hope you will come visit me again."

The bird flew toward the inky sky. Anyone wouldn't be able to tell the slight blush coating his head.

He landed a few hectares from your and transformed back to his naked human form.

"Archons above. How could they name a man, "Queen"?" He rubbed his dark blue hair. Seemingly sheepish for being mistaken as a girl.

"What was that?" A new voice spoke.

It belonged to the red bird perched on the branches.

"You said you'd go survey the premises. Did you take another detour again?" The miffed tone is impossible to miss. He flew down and morphed to a man with luscious crimson hair that cascades down to his waist and sharp tantalizing red eyes.

"No, of course not. I went to reconnoiter the Imperial Palace."

"Did you really?"

"You don't believe me, brother?"

He gave his brother a sharp glare. "You haven't given me enough reason to. But do remember your position and responsibility, especially in this foreign country."

"I get it. Don't have to nag me, Diluc."

Kaeya Laszlo, first in line to the throne of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom. The center of many rumors, such as those which describe his great cruelty or great beauty.

A few of those say he's a Casanova, and that he associates with dangerous pirates hence why he hasn't met any woman or man of his interest.

And finally, the long awaited New Year's Ceremony came. Noble figures were all invited to celebrate the occasion with your Kingdom as the host.

As for your husband, he's quite busy mingling with his mistress and you were left with your friends.

"Dear god. How shameless is the Emperor to have the face in showing off his. . . unpalatable mistress."

"There is no need for your ire. The law states that the Emperor can take more than one spouse." A tight smile graced your lips.

One of your friends scoffed. "Even it that were the case, a man with a noble heart wouldn't take one more to fulfill his insecurities. You are more than enough and the Emperor does not deserve you."

"Greetings, Your Majesty." An elegant man gracefully interrupted your conversation with your friends.

You turn to look at the man clad in a white-blue knight uniform, specifically more stylish than what you usually on a regular knight at your Kingdom. A Prince, you concluded.

As you shift your apprehensive eyes on him, the little details such accessories and intonation caught your undivided attention.

Silver rings on those long, dexterous fingers, silver necklace around the neck that held his head way too high, silver tongue in that mouth home to all kinds of sins. He was the epitome of being devious; so much so that he could literally walk right off anything by just talking his way out of it.

"I am Kaeya Laszlo, first Prince of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom."

Everyone around you gasped and some almost fainted while you remained level-headed.

"Greetings, Prince Kaeya. I have welcomed you earlier today, but it never crossed my mind to engage a talk to such an esteemed guest of ours."

It's more like I never expected someone like you to approach me. You thought sardonically.

"Do I come off as cold to you, Your Highness? Pardon but that is not my intention, but surely you'll allow me to make worth of your time." He chuckled wistfully, a smirk has overtaken his lips.

Great God. If he endeavoured to make you fall for him as much as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You just couldn't shake off the feeling that you know this man.

Burst of giggles erupted around you while your eyebrow perched. "Cold? You don't strike me as such, if anything, your bold statement has proven me otherwise."

"Oh, and what would be your answer?"

"I—"

"Of course they agree! Please don't mind us and enjoy your evening together, Prince Kaeya!" One glare against dozens of mischievous eyes is like fighting tooth with nail.

"Shall we?" He offered his hand to guide you in his predestined destination. "I sure hope it is worthwhile, Prince Kaeya." You took his hand and my god was his hand the iceberg.

"Call me Kaeya for starters and I shall call you Y/N."

First name basis already?

"Is that a demand?"

"Does it sound like a demand?"

"It certainly does."

"Well, it is up to you to decide whether to oblige or not." He smiled.

God, it's unfair to have the blessings of charm.

"Where are we going?"

The young man beckoned his head to the exit. "Somewhere your husband won't suspect a thing."

"You really do sound like a Casanova."

"Oh dear, don't tell me you believe those hearsay."

You shrugged. "I do not, but you've been anything as what the rumors have described you thus far."

"You made me curious of you."

"How so?"

Arriving at the garden, he glances at the full moon before turning to stare right at you. "Your eyes are beautiful, yet they also look so empty oftentimes. Your movements and the way you speak are very refined and regal, but they can turn cold, or even rude at times. You're a paradox I'd love to solve, Y/N." Kaeya paused, "But I feel like you're a paradox I could never solve, no matter how hard I try."

This stare off could go on forever, if Kaeya had his way. The tension is obvious, but the air between you both is too tempting — too addicting to resist.

He doesn't look away. . . not one bit and neither do you. His eyes are fixed on yours, his breath steady and his pulse strong. A part of him wants you to make a move. . . to show that you feel as strongly for him as he feels for you.

The other part just wants to steal you away and make you his.

Spoiler alert: he did.

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓 as 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 !

It's old news for aristocratic children get engaged before they could debut. But in your case, you're not merely marrying a boy of your family's choice.

You're marrying the infamous Monstrous Crown Prince Bennett; the child who was rumored to have been cursed to bring misfortune to those around him. Thus, he has lived his entire life in the confinements of his four walls.

Fretful thoughts flooded your mind as your carriage neared his mansion. Imperial children usually stays at the Imperial Palace with the King and Queen, however in Prince Bennett's case, he was segregated to live in another mansion built specifically for him to stay out of the spotlight — or as others should say it, for him to not spread the curse of bad luck.

You don't usually treat people based on senseless rumors, but you do heed the rumors as a guide for you to be cautious. Prince Bennett is by far the most unknown factor you have to deal with despite the rumors surrounding him. What is he like? Is he a snob? Does he really bring bad luck?

Those thoughts have kept you all night that you didn't have time to sleep. Somewhere along the way, you fell in a deep slumber, ignoring the occasional jerk of the carriage as it hits a bump on the road.

Constant whimpering reminding you of a kicked puppy was what woke you up from your blissful beauty rest.

For a moment, you have forgotten what happened before you fell asleep. Through your blurried vision, you noticed the walls and ceiling looking dull with the simple light shades of painting, the bed you're resting felt foreign to the touch, the minimalist approach from the interior design and lack of other furnitures made you think you're in someone's room.

"G-Gah! Yo-You're awake. . ." A meek voice said from beside you, it's easy to mistaken it as a woman's voice if it wasn't for the boyish undertone.

You blinked several times before adjusting your sight. There's a hooded boy at the very far right of your bedside, and from the looks of it, he seemed terrified to even close an inch gap.

"Who are you?" Was million dollar question. The boy visibly bristled. It's quite clear for you that he's not used to social interaction.

"I-I. . . am Bennett." He spoke with a low, soothing tone that was laced with a soft accent. Despite his voice being smooth and even, he stared back at you with unbidden curiosity, one that seemed to peer into your very soul.

"Bennett?! Oh Lord, I greet His Majesty the Crown Prince!" You promptly bowed your head as low as it can get.

"W-Wait, no, please don't do that! I don't deserve your respect and besides, we're equals now, feel free to call me Bennett if you like."

He doesn't deserve respect? What a load of bullcrap does that mean? A frown has settled deeply in the creases of your forehead. This boy is anything but what the rumors have described him.

"Your Hig— Bennett, you could be an outcast or a peasant and I'd still treat you with respect. Don't say you don't deserve decent manners." You're almost fuming at this point.

"But I'm a monster. I don't deserve anything, even you."

Something in the purity of his statement triggered you.

"I bring bad luck to everyone. I could hurt you in the future and I don't want that, I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."

You could feel the last of your residual resentment fading away, getting replaced by a deep sense of compassion — as well as a healthy dose of curiosity. What would this boy, your future husband, truly be like?

"You're no monster, Bennett. No monster would be concerned for my well-being and selflessly label themselves as such to ward me off." He seemed to perk up at your claim.

"Don't ever call yourself as such. I can't stand it."

"I don't understand, you're the first one to say that to me."

A frown has settled on your brows as you came to stand next to him. "You don't need to for now, I'll show you."

Bennett was none of those rumors. You have concluded that ever since you met him, he has been kind and considerate to your well-being. You have never met someone who would ask which side of the table they're more comfortable to eat with — not until Bennett.

The boy was overwhelming with perfervid compassion and the strong urge to give love, it can feel suffocating at times but that's what made you like him.

There's just this nagging feeling in your gut that he's forced to act like a doting husband due to the fact you're engaged. Is it all an obligation? Or he's simply this passionate?

"Are you not upset at this?" You had asked one night.

"Upset about what?"

"About our arranged marriage."

Bennett may appear jubilant around you but you can't help to think he harbors ill will to this arrangement. "I see no reason why I would." He replied, smiling at you as per usual.

"Why is that?"

He tear his gaze from you before briefly interlocking your hands. So warm and full of passion, you promptly responded to the gesture by drawing circles with your thumb.

"You're the best thing to happen in my life. I can't explain this feeling but I do know I can't be happy without you. Thank you for coming in my life, Y/N."

━━ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. bennett's way too short cuz I ran out of ideas T-T this took wayyyyyy tooooo long, but I'm glad it turned out well. what do you think of this au? I'm planning on making a part 2 for other genshin men, I'm actually starting it already but I still need to finish other prompts.

━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @atsukawolfcat @spyanya @ittosoneandoniwife @a-rose-byanothername @lasignoramybeloved @vvyeislazzy @kokomisimpppp @gookimswife

©OTAKUWORKS_2024

[eschercaine]

Lady Rhaenyra Targaryen, daughter of Lord Viserys Targaryen and his first wife Lady Aemma Arryn, marries Sir Criston of House Cole, a man she is infatuated with.

Shortly after their marriage, rumors surface about an affair she is supposedly having, leading to a scandal and their eventual divorce. Her uncle, Daemon, who still harbors feelings for her, defends her honor but ends up exiled as a result.

The rumors are later to be revealed to be the work of Lady Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra’s stepmother and former best friend, who sought to tarnish her reputation to conceal her own affair with Viserys which began a month before Aemma’s death.

When the truth is exposed, Alicent’s reputation suffers greatly, while Daemon is pardoned from exile. Criston begs Rhaenyra for reconciliation, but she chooses to be with Daemon instead.

[seleneprince]

Hear me out

With the growing popularity of transmigration webtoons, I assume we've all read those ones about a random girl or fan reincarnating in the villainess' body and changing the original plot completely, and often finding out the villainess wasn't so bad and the MC was the real enemy all along.

I'm obsessed with that trope and I don't care how repetitive or predictable it gets sometimes, it fuels me. It gives me life. And since I recently started to re-read The Remarried Empress on webtoon (i'm following I Abdicate my Title as Empress now and the nostalgia hit me), I had an idea I can't stop thinking about. Well, two ideas:

A fierce fan of The Remarried Empress dying in an accident or falling into a coma, I don't care, and reincarnating in Rasha's body, right when's she found by Emperor Sovieshu on the trap. She's a BIG supporter of Navier and hates Sovieshu with passion, blaming him for everything. Her opinion on Rasha is the same as the average fans...until she experiences the girl's trauma and hardships herself, and realizes that there's more depth in the unfamous webtoon villainess than she thought. Despite her new identity and knowing most of the plot, she cannot bring herself to stay away from Navier and show her adoration for the Empress, acting like a fangirl whenever she sees her or hears about her. She helps push all the strings to guarantee Navier and Heinrey's love story to shail, because even though she wants her close, she wants Navier to have the happy life she deserves.

Or the original Rashta going back to the past after her death and, feeling terrible for what she did, vows to not commit the same mistakes again and decides to do her best to help Navier from the distance whenever the Emperor fucks up. She doesn't want to be empress, just have a cozy and secure life away from slavery, so she's resolved to make Navier stay and if she has to act as a marital therapist for them so be it. She knows her position is secured with her baby, so it's not like she needs the Emperor's affection on her, just his promise to look after her (plus she resents him a lot now, so the less she interacts with him, the better).

These ideas were born out of my new found realization that Rashta, while she works amazing as a pitiful villain, her character was deeply misunderstood and forever condemned to be mocked and attacked by everyone, both in the story and the fandom. She wasn't a saint, sure. She did bad things out of selfishness and purposedly went against Navier to steal her place, and I was satisfied with the ending she got. But most of the flaws that made her so annoying for the fans are actually reasonable within her character's past. Rashta was sold as a slave by her own father when she was a child, placed in a house with masters that abused her and treated her like trash simply for existing (Lotteshu even gave her a dead baby to let her believe it was the one she lost, how the fuck no one talks more about it?). Then, she escapes and the Emperor saves her, showering her in affection and riches and promising her a fairytale love story. She think she's safe, that she can finally be happy, but Lotteshu re appears and begins to blackmail her, and then turns out the Emperor doesn't love her but wants to the heir she can give him. Ergi is her only friend in court apparently, but he's manipulating her from the beginning and eventually betrays her. And Rashta wasn't purposedly rude to Navier at first, the girl was illiterate and knew nothing about etiquette, but she admired Navier and wanted to be close to her, but Navier assumed she was mocking her instead. And Sovieshy obviously never helped this situation.

I want to see a story where Rashta's traumatic past is properly explored instead of showing it as side information, and she gets the development she should have had. And what better way than with a reincarnation story? At least in my opinion

Anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk lmao

[nirstedamillen]

"You won't do it. You can't pull the trigger, Rashta."

[the-great-empress]

Club Replaced

Mammon: What the-!?! Mc?!?!

Navier with education: Good evening

Mc: The replaced au is very popular in Obey Me! Baby!

Latil: *Happy* Navier's franchise and mine are essentially a Replaced!! Wow!

Navier calmly: I don't think that's a reason to boast

Latil: We will vent and speak badly about family members, our exes, our exes' lovers.

Beelzebub: And Mc?

Latil: *smiling* From the bastards who hurt her

Navier: *smiling* You guys

Mc: Bye bye~~!

*They left*

[honestlyyoungtyphoon]

S

So Sovieshu is probably standing at least 1 foot ahead of henly.

But damn Sovi baby got them tiddies 🌊🌝🥵 and the V line 👀🤤

I also love how Navier is in control of her emotions and smiling whereas Rashta is blushing heavily, even forgot to eat. 😆

I also love this AU!

[pruneunfair]

Oc's for my Au.

Malori Hemsley, Age:20

one of the many maids working at the palace of the Fahlgren empire (I renamed the eastern empire). Former slave of Nian and her husband, her job doubles as security since she knows how to use a sword but isn't allowed to join the military due to her past. Photo on the left is when she's at work and photo on the right is when she crossdresses to crash balls/banquets

Evalie Claude, Age:16

Duke Ergis wife and Maloris lost younger sister. The duchess who pushed a trend of regency styled dresses for women

Disclaimer: just gotta clear a few things up first. For anyone concerned for the age difference between Evalie and Ergi, he does not do anything to her, Ergi is a monster but he has standards and I will explain below why they got married to begin with. Also she has nothing to do with the Evalie from the original story, I just really like the name and I thought it would still fit since several historical figures shared a name at the same time period, still to avoid confusion I will call her Eva.

LORE DUMP: Malori and Eva's father, Sandro was a fallen Baron who was stripped of his title after going bankrupt from the consequences of schemes, scams and general white collar crime,though many think he just got sloppy it was actually because his partner at the time (Ergi) had screwed him over in trial by delivering the evidence. He and his wife changed their surnames in order not to be recognized and had 3 daughters, M+E being the older sisters to the baby Claire. The Hemsleys had little money to spare considering most of it went to the girls so Malori already had work experience as the oldest by wandering the streets to look for jobs such as chimney sweep or apprenticeships. As the years went on, Sandro grew to see all his daughters as burdens since it was harder for Malori and Eva to work as girls and Claire was too young and sickly and while he would rather not get rid of the daughter that did the most work, Malori would be more desired since she already has a track record of being able to perform most simple jobs. On Christmas eve, Sandro gave Malori extra food and let her stay home instead of working as a sort of compensation for what he was about to do. He doesn't tell Malori about what he's and her mother are going to do and shortly after, he sells Malori to a slave trader when she's 13 for enough money to last 3 years if spent wisely.

She winds up in the Tuania estate and becomes a slave. As a result, Malori starts to despise the noble class the older she gets but she also knows survival comes first and even after she escapes by burning the place down she still appealed to the higher class in order to manipulate some of them for her own gain such as becoming a rich man's mistress so she can take advantage of his eagarness by convincing him to let her get swordsmanship lessons. Once she abandons him Malori goes on a 2 month long journey of going out under a different name drinking at taverns, engaging in duels and even writting a few poems. After those months of utter depravity, she is inevitably caught and sent to be judged by Sovieshu himself after she attacks a nobleman, but instead of imprisoning Malori, Sovieshu was impressed that someone like her could defeat some of the imperial knights and even another noble, he decides to give her an ultimatum: live here as extra security while also doing maid work or be sent to prison for 30 years. Naturally she chooses the former.

As for Eva, she and her remaining family lived off the money Sandro got for selling her older sister for the time being, she and Clarie was told that Malori had died during the blizzard in a carriage accident and as the new oldest, Eva had to pick up the slack and go out for work. This time however Sandro had a new scheme to rise back in the ranks by looking to marry Eva off to a wealthy/powerful man starting as soon as possible. By now Clarie was dying of tuberculosis and the desperation for Eva to get married was not just for status reasons but also so Sandro wouldn't have to raise anymore children. What was not expected however was Duke Ergi to show himself after all this time much to Sandros fury. He offers to marry Eva with the promise letting the parents live in their own little home with fertile land to live off of. There wasn't much choice left and they might as well let Claire have a little happiness before she dies so Eva gets married off when she's 14.

On their wedding night, Ergi makes it clear to Eva that he is not a good man and does not plan to be loyal to her and that she shouldn't see him as some sort of savior who rescued her from poverty. While he doesn't sexually abuse Eva that doesn't mean he's nice to her either. The real reason he married at all was because it was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of the situation and have a perfect tool to sacrifice in the future. I wouldn't say he's full on toxic to her either.. it's a weird relationship where they mostly ignore each other but on occasion can have a decent conversation. She's not totally alone either since she has other friends thanks to her popularity in the fashion area.

Eva also suffers from endometriosis, due to the time period set, no one really knows what's happening to her and some even accuse her of faking it for attention, to ease this pain, Eva is given potions made up of opium and the nerves of certain monsters as a painkiller everyday during her times of the month, the side affects cause her to become disoriented and exhausted which keep her docile and obedient. Effectively killing 2 birds with one stone not just for Ergi but also the house of Lazlo in the future.

[witchofhimring]

The Six Empresses (Masterlist)

Princes have but their titles for their glories, An outward honor for an inward turmoil; And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of restless cares.

-William Shakespeare

Chapters:

The True Empress Navier Trovi

2. The Mother Rashta Ishkat

3. The Mistress Libetti Rimwell

4. The Rebellious Princess Princess Circe

5. The Foolish Empress or the Lonely Empress? Evaline Ishkat

6. The Survivor Dartha Ishkat

7. The Golden Empress Glorym Vict

8. The Other Sister Natasha Vict

9. The Emperor Sovieshu Vict

I have decided to write a little series for my "six wives of Sovieshu" post I made a few months back. This series will consist of nine parts, the first six being about the wives. The two about Sovieshu's daughters Glorym and Natasha (Sovieshu & Libetti's daighter and my OC). The last one will be from the pov of Sovieshu.

[demoniqt]

Remarried Empress

Epilogue: The Years Ahead

*2 Years Later*

Su Binghe jumped down from his sword even before it descended low enough to the ground. He landed right in the middle of the bamboo garden belonging to his stepmother and sprinted across the hallways towards the royal chambers.

The rest of his hunting party have yet to reach the palace, being unable to fly on a sword like him. He would have gotten home earlier but Mobei-Jun had yet to reliably master his ability to open portals.

Up ahead, several servants were exiting the door to his parent's chambers, carrying soiled towels and basins of bloodied water. Seeing that, Su Binghe barged through the doors without even knocking.

His cousin, Zhuzhi-Lang, was standing by the bed where his father was sitting beside his stepmother. They were all looking down at the wriggling bundle in Shen Qingqiu's arms.

"Binghe! You're back!" his father exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

"Did- Is that-!?" Su Binghe spluttered as he stumbled forward in his excitement.

Shen Qingqiu turned to show him the newborn baby in his arms.

"Come and meet your little brother, Shen Yuan."

*

*

*

*8 years later*

"Father, doesn't these look pretty?"

Yue Qingyuan looked over to his daughter, who was holding up two silk ribbons, both in shades of pink.

"Yes," he answered dutifully. "You should get both of them."

His daughter grinned happily before turning back to the stall to look through the merchandise, her nanny beside her pointing out some velvet flowers.

Yue Qingyuan left her be, knowing that her nanny and bodyguard would keep an eye on his child. Qi Qingqi, her mother, was supposed to come to the festival with them but she bowed out at the last moment, claiming to be feeling unwell.

However, Yue Qingyuan knew that it was just an excuse for her to go meet with the man she was having an affair with. Truthfully, he wasn't interested in her affairs, as long as she didn't let things go out of hand and dishonor both their families. He understood why she would want to find comfort in the arms of another man, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

He wandered through the streets, looking up at the lanterns that were bobbing to the flow of the cold winds. Despite being in a middle of the crowd, he felt lonelier than he had ever been.

It was after the mid-autumn festival when A-Jiu- when he left... Yue Qingyuan felt the corners of his lips turned downwards at that thought.

Ten years had passed and he still couldn't forget the one person that he had wronged so terribly.

He'd occasionally seen Shen Jiu from afar when the royal couple from the demon world made an appearance during a formal event, but had never been able to do more than capture a glimpse of his former husband.

During those events, A-Jiu still looked as beautiful as when they first got married decades ago, when Yue Qingyuan wasn't the fool that he was now.

He hoped... he hoped A-Jiu was happy where he was. He hoped that Tianlang-Jun treated him well. The way that Yue Qingyuan should have.

As it was, Yue Qingyuan was being punished the way he deserved.

After his daughter was born, Qi Qingqi hadn't gotten pregnant again, despite both their efforts. It didn't take long before things begin to fall apart in their household and there were rumours of concubines circulating around. Yue Qingyuan never planned to take another spouse, given what happened with Shen Jiu, but despite his assurance, Qi Qingqi had gone into a jealous fit, breaking things and abusing the staff until even the court found out about it.

It was a scandalous thing then, considering the careful persona Qi Qingqi had crafted for so long. Her reputation ruined, Qi Qingqi had begged for them to stay together and Yue Qingyuan agreed.   He'd already ruined his first marriage for her, there was no point in ruining the second for a misunderstanding.

Except, Yue Qingyuan just couldn't bring himself to love her wholeheartedly and Qi Qingqi knew it. She knew that he still yearned for his A-Jiu and that became the crux of their broken marriage.

So he didn't blame her for seeking love elsewhere, even when she didn't want to lose her position as Yue Qingyuan's only spouse. Of course, that didn't mean he would ever touch her again, knowing the things that he did now.

It seem as if the Yue family would beget no male heir. The very reason he'd quoted to A-Jiu- Shen Qingqiu became moot when there was no heir to justify him marrying another.

If Qi Qingqi got pregnant by the other man... it would be imprudent of her since she knew that Yue Qingyuan would immediately cast her out if that should ever happen. There was a lot he would tolerate but this matter was not one of them and he'd made sure she knew of it when she first started her affair. Not only that, her whole family would disown her if they ever found out about it. And she would be named a harlot and become an outcast to the upper echelons. There was too much at stake and she wasn't stupid enough to risk it.

Yue Qingyuan sighed and closed his eyes.

He regretted it.

He regretted it so deeply it gored at his heart everyday. He went through the days feeling hollowed by his grief and bitterness.

"I should never have married-," the forbidden words on his tongue was interrupted when a small figure ram into his side.

"Ouch!"

He looked down to see a child around 7 or 8 years old rubbing his head.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

The child looked up and glared at him, mouth pouting adorably.

"Mister, don't just stand in the middle of traffic!" he said, puffing up his cheeks.

"...Xiao Jiu?" Yue Qingyuan stuttered as he stared at the child in disbelief.

The child blinked him with verdant green eyes similar to Shen Qingqiu's.

"You... are you...?" Yue Qingyuan reached out to the child.

"A-Yuan! Don't run away from Gege!"

The child, A-Yuan, jumped and with a giggle tried to run around Yue Qingyuan, who reflexively caught his arm.

"Hey, let go of my little brother!"

Yue Qingyuan looked up to see Su Binghe glaring venomously at him. The demon prince looked much older now, a strapping young man that was attracting glances from young women all around.

"I said, let go of my brother!" Su Binghe repeated, unsheathing his sword.

Yue Qingyuan quickly let go. Despite his desire to know the child, he didn't want to get into an altercation with the demon prince, who was well-known for being a powerful warrior, possibly even the strongest in the demon world. It wouldn't do well to cause a diplomatic issue in the middle of the capital.

The child quickly skipped back to his brother, calling out, "Bing-gege, don't be mad. you found me!"

"Shen Yuan, you can't just run away and hide like this. We're not at home," Su Binghe reprimanded his little brother.

Shen Yuan pouted at him, "You didn't want to buy me tanghulu!"

"You already had three! A-Niang will be angry if you ate too much," Su Binghe answered with a mix of exasperation and fondness.

Shen Yuan gave him a look of sadness, complete with large pleading eyes and pouting lips. It was a look he used often with his doting older brother, with great effectiveness. The occupants of the demon palace lived in constant fear of that look.

Only one person could say no to that face.

"A-Yuan. Binghe."

The two progenies of the demon emperor turned around with looks of equal adoration.

"A-Niang!"

Shen Qingqiu was carrying a small child in his arm while holding the hand of another boy who was munching on a stick of tanghulu.

"Ah, A-Hua gets tanghulu! Why didn't I get any, Niang!?" A-Yuan demanded.

"Because you had one too many," Shen Qingqiu answered without missing a beat. "I can tell with the way you are vibrating from the sugar overload."

"Niannnnggg!!" Shen Yuan whined, wrapping his arms around his mother's waist. His little sister tried to kick his head for trying to subvert her monopoly of their mother's attention but he dodged it.

"Be quiet," Shen Qingqiu said to his second child. Then he turned to Su Binghe, "I told you to keep an eye on A-Yuan, not buy him everything he wants."

"Sorry, A-Niang," Su Binghe apologise, the most fearsome demon warrior demoted to being as meek as a scolded pup in the face of his mother's wrath.

Shen Qingqiu sighed, regretting his decision to take a trip to the capital with his children during the Harvest Festival. He knew the children would enjoy the festivities but his lot were such a troublesome bunch.

He looked away only to lock eyes with the last person he wanted to meet, even after a decade.

"...A-Jiu..." Yue Qingyuan said, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision before him.

"Lord Yue," Shen Qingqiu greeted. "I did not expect to see you here."

Indeed, he'd hope not to run into his ex-husband, but it seems as if the heavens was deaf to his unspoken prayers. Now he had to survive this awkward and uncomfortable encounter.  

"These are..." Yue Qingyuan hesitantly referred to the toddler in his arm and the boys gathered around him.

"My children," Shen Qingqiu confirmed. "You know Su Binghe. This is Shen Yuan, Shen Hua and Shen Qing."

"You... have so many...," Yue Qingyuan commented, looking at the three younger children and finding in them different characters inherited from Shen Qingqiu. "They are all your..."

"Yes, all of them," Shen Qingqiu answered, including Su Binghe by putting a hand on the young man's shoulder.

Su Binghe smiled at him, the look of adoration on his face still unchanged even after a decade. He was so much like his father even in that aspect. Shen Qingqiu honestly never thought that he would experience this kind of devotion. At least, until he met Tianlang-Jun.

Ten years in and Tianlang-Jun never once wavered, never once strayed or even glanced at another person the way he did at Shen Qingqiu. It made Shen Qingqiu feel secure in his status as an empress, as a mother, as a spouse. It made him feel secure in his love.

"We came for the royal wedding," Shen Qingqiu said, explaining his and his children's presence. "The bride is the demon saintess and we were invited as her monarch."

"Is that so..." Yue Qingyuan replied, still staring at the children and then at Shen Qingqiu.

His look of longing was so obvious that Shen Qingqiu could feel Su Binghe's shoulder tensing beneath his hand.

"We should get going, Niang," Su Binghe said, taking Shen Yuan and Shen Hua's hands and leading them away in a blatant attempt to get his mother away from his former husband.

"Mn, your father will be waiting," Shen Qingqiu commented, nodding to Yue Qingyuan before turning away. "Please excuse us, Lord Yue."

"Ah-, yes, uhm, it was good seeing you again," Yue Qingyuan said softly.

Shen Qingqiu didn't grace that with an answer, nor did he even look back. There was no point in doing so.

What was already broken beyond repair will never be undone.

***

The royal wedding between the Crown Prince and Demon Saintess Sha Hualing came as a surprise to many.

The Crown Prince was an astute young man with a vision for the future while Sha Hualing, well, she grew up with Su Binghe after the complete unification of the demon world as a tribute from her clan. Originally, everyone thought she would marry Su Binghe since she was attached to him everyday, all day. But she lost interest in him when Su Binghe told her that he wasn't interested in her that way.

Then the Crown Prince from the human world came to visit the demon palace one day and well, it certainly made it into the palace history records as the most tumultuous courtship ever.

All in all, that was to say that Shen Qingqiu knew what kind of flighty, unreliable little girl she was. But seeing her bedecked in red silk (fully covered and not an inch of skin showing), with a large smile on her glowing face, he felt no small amount of relief and a little... nostalgic.

He wondered if he would feel the same way when Su Binghe got married...

Speaking of which, Su Binghe was talking to the only daughter of the former General Liu and Shen Qingqiu dearly hoped that the boy he raised like his own wouldn't flirt around with Liu Mingyan without meaning a single word. He didn't want to have to attend to a political crisis just because that boy wanted to flex his flirting skills. Also, her brother had a reputation of being a formidable general who didn't hesitate to cut down any man who so much as looked at his sister wrong.

"Mama," his daughter called, pulling at his robes and Shen Qingqiu patted her downy curls gently. A-Qing was tired but he couldn't leave the reception hall without his husband and it was still too early to make his escape.

"Does she want a nap?" Tianlang-Jun asked, offering his arms. "Let me carry her so you can eat."

Shen Qingqiu shifted the two-year-old into his grasp and watched as his Emperor rocked his only daughter to sleep.

"Baba," she cooed, patting her father's face sleepily.

"Baobao," he returned with a smitten look on his face, taking the hand and kissing it dotingly.  

Shen Qingqiu couldn't look away from the scene. He never once thought that he would have the privilege of having so many loved ones who loved him in return.

"Aunt, A-Hua and A-Yuan is tired too," Zhuzhi-Lang said, leaning down beside him where he was watching the two kids play. "Should I take them back to their room?"

"Mn," Shen Qingqiu replied, smoothing A-Yuan's ruffled hair and patting A-Hua's head. He told his children, "Be good for Zhuzhi-gege."

"Night, Mama," the two princes echoed, wrapping their arms around him before leaving with their cousin hand-in-hand. It was a sight to behold, the fearsome snake general, now a babysitter for his two sons.  

Shen Qingqiu accidently looked over to the other side of the hall and met eyes with two people staring intently at him. One filled with hatred, the other... oozing with longing. The couple seemed to be ignoring their daughter, who was sitting awkwardly between them.

Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes and turned away.  

Let Qi Qingqi stew in her jealousy and anger. Let Yue Qingyuan wallow in his own regrets.

Neither of them had anything to do with him anymore.

He was above them now. He'd won. Even when he had not endeavored to do so a decade ago when he received those divorced papers and approached Tianlang-Jun with remarriage in mind.

Back then, he'd just wanted to survive and live.

Now, he was living his life to the fullest, happier than he had ever been before.

And that was the best revenge he could have gotten.

*

*

The Final End of Remarried Empress

Return to Prologue

[chuluoyi]

I’m curious! do you already know how many parts the empress series will have?

i’m thinking just 2— “all hail the empress” and “long live the empire”🥹 but i’m starting to think of side stories too… just that right now i still have no ideas tho

[lxdymoon0357]

Here's a crossover idea. Sovieshu and Minho friendship in modern au. Sovieshu is from way richer and powerful family than wookyung and he helps Minho by hiring him as Gloryem's tutor. Slowly they become close friends and wookyung still tries to destroy Minho but Sovieshu protects him. I mean canonically Sovieshu has a thing for helpless being and likes to help them. Maybe they'd form a brotherly bond and Gloryem would get an uncle. Rasta is the best sister in law.

(..This is one crossover I can love!!! I need my best bois to be with each other, honestly if Sovieshu was in actor AU, I'd like to believe he was twins with Minho!! Also Sovieshu has a good relationship with Rashta and doesn't like Navier in any romantic way, she's his sister figure! Ian and Gloryem are both with Sovieshu and Rashta!)

Parallel lines...

╟ Minho met Sovieshu as he was friends with the principle of the school despite not liking the man cause Sovieshu found him annoying knowing he was only sucking up to the boy...when his eyes fell on another black haired boy, quite pretty he was....Sovieshu couldn't lie, and he looked so small and sensitive despite being so well-built and having such an intimidating face...

╟ Definitely easily befriended Minho and they became close and learning of his great teaching begged Minho to tutor Gloryem and Ian...Minho was worried for scaring the girl, but Sovieshu comforted him saying they won't be...They're Rashta's kids after all and Rashta.....she either never learnt what fear was or she wasn't intimidated by scary facial features....and the kids inherited that...

╟ Minho agreed, albiet a bit nervous to get mad at the kids, but he followed the address Sovieshu gave him and arrived at one of the most grandest houses he's ever seen, tall with a palace like feeling with a dark turquoise and black columns... Leaving Minho FLABBERGASTED...my mans was too stunned to speak..but softly knocked on the door

╟ He expected the door to be opened by Sovieshu, but was instead pulled open by one the most gorgeous women he's seen; pale skin, white-blonde wavy hair, gorgeous, large, grey doe-like eyes and dresses in a soft white dress with the brightest smile he's ever seen...she reminded him of himself as a kid... she happily welcomed him and introduced herself; Rashta, wife of Sovieshu and mother of his two kids..

╟ Rashta spoke happily in a bubbly explaining how Sovieshu often talked highly of him, as she called two kids to meet him, seemingly Sovieshu's genes decided to put up not a single speck of fight as the kids were carbon copies of her and were just as bright and bubbly, especially the girl; Gloryem...

╟ He had a talk with Rashta who decided on the timings, syllabus and what to teach the kids. He agreed and she had him stay for dinner; he wanted to leave but Rashta wouldn't take no for an answer and so he stayed as Sovieshu and Rashta happily served him dinner...

╟ He started tutoring the two kids, and Sovieshu began inviting him for drinks or things like that and they got close, during this time the situation with Doona and Wookyung happened and the first person he told that to was Rashta who cried with him in her arms and raised hell until her husband did something about the situation.

╟ Sovieshu first told them to wait as there was a business deal going on, but a argument and two crying session from Rashta later, he called up his company in anger and called it off while Rashta simply winked to Minho with a cheeky smile with her crocodile tears still streaming down her cheeks...

╟ Basically becomes his sister and mother, always gifting him things like a mother, Rashta is rather protective of Minho, making sure his inner child is safe, he reminds her of himself when living with his abusive father..she doesn't want him to experience that, he has gone through enough in his life in her opinion..

╟ Whenever she introduces him, she calls him "Dear brother, Minho-ssi" and she never lives it down, she refuses to say he's Sovieshu's brother, even though people believe Minho is Sovieshu's brother and even if Sovieshu claims that Minho is his brother, Rashta will refuse to believe it because she likes being his sister. It's a petty thing, she rubs of off Minho ...

╟ Rashta is most likely to be a fashion model, on top of trends, the trend-setter and maker and she has Minho as her top model, they're called "the moon and sun twins" because of how much of a moon Minho looks and how bright Rashta...they go viral on insta for their matching photos!