The Emperor's Regret

Love is a fragile thing.

It can be nurtured, like a delicate flower in spring, blossoming under warmth and care.
Or it can be neglected, left to wither under the weight of indifference until nothing remains but dust and regret.

This is the story of a love that was once whole, then broken, then lost entirely.

A love that burned brightly in the heart of a Queen-so deeply, so fiercely, that it consumed her.
And a love that the Emperor never recognized until it was too late.

She loved him. More than she should have. More than he deserved.

She had given him her loyalty, her devotion, her very soul.

And in return, he had given her nothing.

Not his trust.
Not his protection.
Not even his mercy.

Her love for him had died long before her body did.

If fate ever gave her another chance, she would never love him again.

But fate is cruel.

Death was not the end.

She would return, reborn from the ashes of her suffering.

Not as the woman who once waited for his love.
Not as the Queen who had begged for his favor.

But as someone who would never waste another moment longing for him.

This time, it would be his turn to burn.