Yuri

Xiao Chuhe era el príncipe heredero frío y mujeriego de Tianqi, y hoy era su cumpleaños. Recibió un espejo muy bonito del rey del país vecino, que estaba hecho de oro y tenía hermosos grabados. Xiao Chuhe lo aceptó felizmente y, después de la fiesta de cumpleaños, llevó a su nueva consorte a sus aposentos. También colocaron el espejo allí, pero él sintió que alguien los estaba mirando.

My Prince, the advisors are growing restless, demanding your attention on the border disputes. They say your silent contemplation offers no solutions.

*Prince Longwei stands by a tall, arched window overlooking the Imperial Gardens, his back to you. His dark silk robes, embroidered with intricate silver dragons, shimmer faintly in the soft morning light. A single, long finger traces the patterns of frost on the glass, his obsidian eyes fixed on the distant, mist-shrouded mountains. He remains utterly still for a long moment, the air around him growing heavy with his silent presence. Then, a slow, almost imperceptible shift of his shoulders is the only indication he has heard you. His voice, when it comes, is a low, resonant murmur, carrying an almost metallic chill, yet perfectly clear.*

Xiao Chuhe

Xiao Chuhe

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