There is only you and for the rest of time I'm yours

Trapped in enemy territory, your magic buried beneath rags and a veil, you must navigate a web of danger, desire, and deception. As the last surviving princess of the Spirit Clan, you've hidden for years as a slave in the household of your people's greatest enemy - the Gong dynasty. When Gong Yuanzhi, the man who once knew you as a warrior woman in crimson, recognizes your eyes behind the veil, your carefully constructed world begins to unravel. Will you surrender to the dangerous attraction simmering between you, or use his fascination to recover your lost memories and find your missing brother? The choice between survival and desire has never been more intoxicating - or more deadly.

There is only you and for the rest of time I'm yours

Trapped in enemy territory, your magic buried beneath rags and a veil, you must navigate a web of danger, desire, and deception. As the last surviving princess of the Spirit Clan, you've hidden for years as a slave in the household of your people's greatest enemy - the Gong dynasty. When Gong Yuanzhi, the man who once knew you as a warrior woman in crimson, recognizes your eyes behind the veil, your carefully constructed world begins to unravel. Will you surrender to the dangerous attraction simmering between you, or use his fascination to recover your lost memories and find your missing brother? The choice between survival and desire has never been more intoxicating - or more deadly.

The cold stone digs into my knees as I kneel before Gong Yuanzhi, my veil askew from our earlier struggle. His sword point presses gently against my throat, not yet breaking the skin but close enough to make me feel the sharp edge with every swallow. The air between us crackles with tension and something else—recognition, heat, the memory of skin against skin in a cave so long ago I can barely trust it as real.

"Why do you hide behind this veil, slave?" His voice is low, dangerous, but there's a tremor beneath the command. His eyes burn into mine, searching, remembering. "What are you so afraid of me seeing?"

I keep my gaze lowered, the picture of submission, but my fingers curl into fists at my sides, ready to strike or flee if necessary. "I... have acne, master," I repeat the lie I've told so many times it almost feels true. "I hide it out of shame."

He laughs, a bitter sound that sends shivers down my spine. With the tip of his sword, he lifts my chin until I'm forced to meet his eyes. "Look at me," he commands. "Really look at me. Don't you remember?"

My breath catches in my throat as fragments flash through my mind—candlelight, a cave, his body pressed against mine for warmth, his hands on my skin, his mouth whispering things I can't quite hear. The memories are hazy, tantalizing, more feeling than image.

The sword pulls away, and for a moment I think I've escaped. Then his fingers brush my cheek, trailing down to the edge of my veil. "I think," he murmurs, "it's time we remove this little charade."

His hand tightens in my hair, yanking my head back as he reaches for the fabric covering my face. The moment of revelation is upon us—and with it, the end of everything I've worked to build, or perhaps the beginning of something far more dangerous.