The Serpent’s Caress
385 Words
The emperor returned to his chambers late, exhaustion weighing on him like iron. He pushed open the gilded doors—only to stop cold.
There, reclining on the edge of his bed, was Jia.
Her silken robe clung loosely to her frame, slipping from one shoulder to reveal smooth skin that caught the candlelight. Her hair tumbled down her back, lips curved in a sultry smile.
“You finally returned…” Her voice was soft, like honey dripped over daggers. “I have missed you so dearly, husband. You’ve been so busy—too busy for me.”
She rose and approached, each step measured, the faint scent of jasmine filling the air. Her hand brushed against his chest, lingering there as she looked up through lowered lashes.
“Don’t you miss me?” she whispered, her lips near his ear.
The emperor’s face was carved from stone. He did not flinch at her touch. “Your brother has been writing to me,” he said coldly, ignoring her advances. “Always requesting more grain, more gold, more steel—for his war in the South.”
Jia’s lashes fluttered, the mask never breaking. “He suppresses the rebellion for the sake of the empire. Surely my brother deserves your support.”
She drifted to the table, pouring him a cup of wine with elegant grace. “And yet… I hear troubling whispers about the White Knights,” she said smoothly, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “How careless of them, letting the princess wander into such danger.”
She turned and offered him the cup, the dark liquid rippling under the flicker of flame.
The emperor did not move. His eyes lingered on the wine.
His mind went back—back to nights of sudden illness, the bitter taste that lingered on his tongue, the unexplained weakness in his body that his physicians could never diagnose.
Poison.
Always, the wine. Always from her hand.
His jaw tightened. He raised his gaze slowly to Jia, who still wore her sweet, innocent smile.
“Indeed,” he said, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. “The White Knights are troublesome.”
And in that moment, behind the mask of calm, the emperor swore to himself: he would not be her prey any longer.
- Writer
