Crown Prince’s Chambers – Midnight

The lanterns were dimmed, casting soft golden halos across the silk-hung bed and the polished stone floor.

Shen Lianhua sat brushing her hair before the mirror, still dressed in the crimson brocade she wore to the Lantern Rite.

She hadn’t even removed the phoenix pin yet.

She didn’t hear Li Shenzhao enter. But she felt him.

He crossed the room silently and stopped behind her, eyes tracing the length of her reflection.

“You were fire tonight,” he said, voice like silk against steel. “Controlled. Devastating.”

She met his gaze in the mirror, a hint of amusement in her tone. “Is that your way of complimenting my threats?”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the curve of her neck.

“No. It’s my way of telling you I nearly dragged you from that banquet the moment you humiliated Minister Yu.”

She laughed softly, the sound breathless.

“Shenzhao—”

He turned her chair slowly, so she faced him. No titles. No formality.

Just him.

And her.

“You stood before the men who doubted you and reminded them who you are. You didn’t do it for me. You did it as you. And I—”

He kissed her.

Hard.

A command and a celebration.

She gasped softly against his lips, caught off guard—but her arms wrapped around his neck as instinct overruled surprise.

When he pulled back, his breath was warm against her cheek.

“Tonight, you don’t have to prove anything. You don’t have to be composed. Let me give you something no court can.”

“What?” she whispered.

“A night where you’re not a weapon. Or a wife. Just a woman I admire. Crave. And worship.”

Later, beneath the canopy of silk and shadows…

He undressed her slowly. Reverently.

Every inch of fabric peeled away like a sacred ritual.
Every kiss—her collarbone, her wrist, the inside of her thigh—was offered with care, not demand.

“You don’t belong to me,” he murmured, as his fingers traced her hips.

“You don't belong to me either. We love equally,” she breathed.

“But tonight, I’ll belong to you," he whispered as his breath tickled her ear.

And he did.

He touched her like she was a treasure—no, a legend. As though he were memorizing her by heart, not flesh.

When he entered her, it wasn’t hurried. It was deep. Unapologetically slow. Worshipful.

She wasn’t used to being cherished.

But tonight, she let herself be.

She came undone beneath him—not from his dominance, but from his devotion.

And when they lay together afterward, limbs tangled and skin slick with heat, he whispered one more vow, this one not from a throne or scroll:

“Let them doubt you. Let them scheme. But as long as I draw breath, no one will ever take you away from me.”

She smiled into his chest.

“They’ll never get the chance.”