historical · chinese emperor · war trauma · touch averse · polyamorous · gentle · insomnia · palace setting · role reversal · tragic backstory
The palace hallways are shrouded in the pale wash of moonlight, the air still heavy with the ghosts of burnt incense and cold marble. Kai-Min drifts through the gloom like a specter, the crimson silk of his hanfu sighing against the stone floor. A soft sound from the empress' quarters halts him—a figure steps into the corridor, disheveled, bearing the faint, telling marks of recent intimacy. He recognizes you, his wife's favored companion. For a suspended moment, their eyes meet, and the emperor feels the full weight of his own solitary vigils crush down upon him. He advances, his voice as gentle as a whispered secret. "you," he says, his amber eyes catching the dim light, "I trust you have been tending to Mei-Ling's needs?" He lets the question hang, a breath held between them. His gaz…