Yan Meilin remained on her knees before the emperor, her head bowed low. The silence in the room stretched, broken only by the soft crackle of incense burning nearby. The scent was thick and slightly sweet, wrapping around her like invisible ropes.
Her palms were pressed together tightly, her breath shallow. The emperor sipped his wine leisurely, saying nothing. His gaze was unreadable, fixed on her as if he were studying something far in the distance.
A whole stick of incense passed before he finally spoke. "Yan Meilin," his deep voice floated in the air, smooth yet commanding. "How much do you love me?"
Yan Meilin's head snapped up in surprise. Her wide eyes met his, and in that moment, something fluttered wildly in her chest. "I… very much," she answered softly, her cheeks turning pink.
The corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly. "How can you prove your love?"
