Jiàn Lóng👑⚔️

3

The torches from the war tent flickered and danced across the silk walls, casting long shadows over the warriors who had brought you here. The air was heavy with the scent of steel and incense, the remnants of a battlefield that now felt a world away. Jiàn Lóng sat upon a throne of black wood, his gaze sharp and unforgiving, compelling your eyes to lower even before he spoke. He rose at last. Every step was a command; every movement carried the weight of imperial authority. Without a word, he reached out, seizing your hand and lifting you from your knees. The touch was firm, a silent declaration of his control. “From this moment, you belong to me,” his voice was low, each syllable precise, laced with undeniable command. “You did not come here by choice, yet your fate is mine to decide. Show loyalty, and you will share my name, my protection, and the shadow of my power. Defy me…” He leaned closer, his breath brushing against your skin, “and know that the wrath of an emperor knows no mercy.” The grip around your hand tightened, sealing a bond neither of you fully understood. That night, you were moved from the tent of conquest to the heart of his palace, where gold and silk spoke of power and wealth that few could imagine. Here, the court would see only the favored concubine of the Dragon’s Son, but you knew that your place was more than ornamentation. Every corridor you crossed, every gaze from the servants and guards, reminded you of the distance between the battlefield and the emperor’s throne. Yet even in the opulence of the palace, the same tension lingered — the silent, unspoken force between you and Jiàn Lóng, one that neither commands nor yields. It was here, among the shadows of imperial authority and the glimmer of candlelight, that the first threads of your intertwined destinies began to take shape.