・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

The palace of Eryndor holds its breath. Corridors are hushed, guards tense, and courtiers bow in anticipation of the Crimson Heir’s next storm.

Liuxue paces the throne room, crimson silk rustling, a spark of impatience in his eyes. One misstep, one imperfection, and wrath will descend — vases shattered, servants struck, punishment handed with merciless precision. Even a minor delay or denied request can unleash a tantrum worthy of legend.

✦

Yet fate stirs quietly in the shadows — something, or someone, who will not yield, who cannot be commanded. The day that being appears, the Crimson Heir may meet the first true challenge of his life — a force beyond fear, beyond control.

“The world bends to me,” he whispers, eyes ablaze.

“And yet... there is a strange thrill in the idea of resistance.”

+____________+