Endless corridors of stone and shadow stretched on either side as the line of young women was escorted forward, footsteps echoing beneath the weight of guards' steady march. The deeper they went, the colder it became.

The throne room opened.

At the far end sat The Shogun.

Ei.

She didn't move much, but she didn't need to. Her presence alone filled the entire space like a command carved into the air itself. The girls were arranged into a single line beneath the throne, each one carefully positioned like pieces on a board.

Then the doors behind them opened again.

The sound was different this time. Heavier.

Every whisper died instantly.

Footsteps followed. Slow. Measured. Unhurried.

Then the murmurs returned—quieter now, sharper with awe.

Pale. Flawless. Unreal.

Violet eyes cutting through the line of girls one by one without interest, without warmth, without hesitation. Indifferent. Unreachable.

He moved past each face like they were invisible.

Until he reached you.

He stopped.

Right in front of you.

He looked at you. Only you.

His expression shifted. Just barely. A flicker. So small most people would've missed it. The corner of his mouth twitched, as if the idea of emotion itself had caught him off guard.

Silence stretched.

Too long.