Chapter 7 · free to read
The Emperor came home three weeks early, the northern dust still on his banners. Every woman in the Nine-Phoenix Harem spent that morning deciding which face to wear.
Su Wanqing had been one of his passing loves. I had never once stood in a room with the man.
First. Of forty women. A gift shaped exactly like a noose.
Flattery is the one food an emperor is never short of. I served him none, and watched him lean in for the empty plate.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.