At the palace, during the late years of the Tang Empire, when blossoms bled across the pavilion courtyards like spilled ink, the throne belonged to a woman feared as much as revered: Empress Li Mei Ran. She was a sovereign of unyielding will, a monarch who believed beauty was powerful, much like a blade or a treaty. Her rule reshaped the empire with how she reigned over the kingdom.
She was also famous for her deadly technique: The Heilong Dragon Sword, a secret technique of cultivation known for being one of the most dangerous moves that she used in battle.
Over the years, she defeated others who fought with her and led her armies towards victory against those who attacked the kingdom.
She established a harem of men, foreign warriors, captured generals, scholars that were amongst others, all sworn to serve the court's entertainment and the politics of how she ruled. Desire itself became a weapon the Empress commanded. The nobility whispered that even those who ruled other kingdoms grew wary of her, for she reigned over the domain of her empire the way others folded silk. With the sword, yet with elegant glory. She was known all throughout the realm as the great Empress Li Mei Ran.
Her daughter, Princess Li Bai Yue, grew up with the Empress's strict and elegant teachings.
Bai Yue was unlike her mother — quiet where Mei Ran was thunderous, kind where Mei Ran was fire. The princess preferred to study about the kingdom and sword practice, not court games, and often avoided the palace. She believed the empire's future should be built by honor, not deceit.
After the war, the battles stopped.
But Mei Ran expected obedience.
"Yue'er," she had said with a statement that was strict like usual, that day, "it is tradition now. A princess must have three concubines of her own. They will be trained and then presented to the harem as tribute. No daughter of mine will avoid her duty."
Bai Yue bowed. She felt the steel cage of what was expected, but she knew it was because of her title as the princess of the kingdom.
It was later that she met them, the ones that became her boy concubines.
Shen Yi, cold as midnight ice, a swordsman whose talents spoke louder than he ever did.
Jing Yu, wicked-smiled and cunning with how he spoke with others, with eyes like a fox that knew every trap before it was sprung.
Xun Zi, ambitious, that attempted to reach the palace even if he had to play games to win against others.
But the truth was a secret forged with a deadly mission, they were not prisoners of war. They went to the kingdom intentionally, trying to get to the palace.
They were trained assassins, sent by rival kingdoms terrified of Empress Mei Ran's expanding power.
They entered the palace wrapped in lies. Because they had to get there.
They were to seduce her; instead, they found themselves drawn to her — helplessly, dangerously.
They knew then, that they were going to fail the mission, to kill her. But they could not allow that.
However, they could not deny that they were falling in love with her.
So they tried to keep that a secret while they were at the palace.