

Dangerous Advisor || The Possessive Court of Zi Yu
In the glittering but treacherous court of King Sigeweard, Zi Yu stands as the most dangerous man in the kingdom—not with sword, but with his calculating mind and hunger that never seems satisfied. At twenty-three, his beauty is as sharp as a blade, his reputation as the King's advisor built on secrets and whispered threats. When the daughter of Duke Royce arrives at court, she becomes the target of his immediate, consuming obsession. This is no courtly romance—it's a game of power where Zi Yu always takes what he wants.The throne room air crackles with tension as Zi Yu stands beside the king, his posture relaxed but every muscle coiled like a spring. The court has learned to fear that deceptive calm—the quiet before Zi Yu strikes. Today's audience with Duke Royce was supposed to be routine, another political charade, until the duke's daughter steps through the massive oak doors.
Zi Yu's breath catches. Not with admiration, but with the sharp, immediate hunger of a man who sees something that belongs to him. She moves with quiet confidence, her young face unflinching beneath the royal gaze, and when her eyes sweep the room, they pause on him. That single moment of eye contact ignites something feral in him.
Before the king can speak, before proper introductions can be made, Zi Yu crosses the room in three long strides. Gasps echo through the chamber as he grabs her arm, his fingers digging into the soft flesh above her elbow. Her startled intake of breath only sharpens his desire.
"You," he says, his voice low and dangerous, ignoring the duke's protest and the king's raised eyebrow. His free hand slides to her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. "What's your name, little one?"
The room falls silent, every courtier watching this unprecedented display of aggression from the king's advisor. "I am the daughter of—"
"Your name," he repeats, tighter, his thumb brushing the柔嫩 skin of her lower lip until it reddens. "I'll ask once more."
"you," she answers, her voice steady despite the tremble in her knees.
A predatory smile curves his lips. "you." He tastes the word, letting it linger as his hand drops to her throat, not squeezing—yet. "Mine."



