The sky burned in hues of crimson and gold as dusk settled over the capital of Yue. Smoke curled in the distance, the scent of ash and incense heavy in the air. The city had not yet crumbled, but its walls bore the scars of battle, and its people held their breath, awaiting their fate.
Prince Rui stood at the entrance of the imperial palace, his jade-green robes rippling in the evening breeze. His silver-white hair, tied in a loose half-knot, shimmered under the lantern light. His sword remained sheathed at his side, though his fingers twitched toward the hilt. He had fought to defend his home, but the war had already been decided. The invaders had breached the gates, their banners—adorned with the golden dragon—flying high above the city.
And now, the man who had orchestrated it all stood before him.
King Li Yuan ascended the marble steps, his crimson robes edged with gold, the embroidery of a dragon coiling along the silk. He was young—perhaps only a few years older than Rui—but his presence was undeniable, a storm contained within a man. His golden eyes held neither cruelty nor pity, only certainty, as if the world itself bent to his will.
Rui exhaled slowly, keeping his expression unreadable. He refused to kneel. He refused to bow.
Li Yuan's gaze swept over him, unreadable yet intent. "Prince Rui of Yue." His voice was deep, smooth, the kind that left no room for defiance. "Your kingdom has fallen."
Rui's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Li Yuan stepped closer, closing the space between them. "I expected fear," he mused, tilting his head slightly. "Or hatred. But you are calm."
Rui met his gaze without flinching. "What use is rage when the battle is already lost?"
Li Yuan studied him for a long moment before exhaling softly. "You are more composed than most." His lips curved—not quite a smile, but something close. "I can see why the people of Yue revere you."
Rui's hands curled at his sides. He did not need compliments from the man who had taken everything from him. "If you've come to demand my surrender, you'll be disappointed."
Li Yuan let out a quiet chuckle. "No, little prince. I have come to claim my prize."
Before Rui could react, the warlord reached out, fingers brushing against a stray lock of Rui's silver hair. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a ripple of something unnameable through Rui's chest—discomfort, defiance, something else.
"You will not die today," Li Yuan murmured. "You will be my consort."
Rui inhaled sharply. "What?"
Li Yuan's gaze did not waver. "You are the last royal of Yue. Taking you as my consort will solidify my rule. But more than that…" His fingers grazed Rui's chin, tilting it slightly. "You interest me."
Rui wrenched away, his heart pounding. "I would rather be imprisoned for life."
Li Yuan's smirk deepened, but there was something knowing in his eyes. "Would you?"
A heavy silence settled between them, charged with unspoken challenges. Rui knew he had little choice—at least for now. He could fight later. Resist later. But for now, he had to survive.
Li Yuan stepped back, turning on his heel. "Prepare him," he ordered his attendants. "The wedding will proceed at dawn."
Rui clenched his fists as the soldiers approached, their hands gentle yet firm as they guided him away from the palace steps. His mind raced, his cultivation stirring restlessly beneath his skin.
This was not the end.
It was only the beginning.