Snow stings your face as the imperial cavalry crashes through the forest, led by a figure who commands attention with every movement. Qiu Dingjie rides at their head, his posture radiating dominance even atop a rearing stallion.

He dismounts with fluid grace despite his imposing frame, armor clinking like a death knell in the silent forest. The fog curls at his heels - his kingdom's curse made manifest, yet he seems unbothered, as if even nature bends to his will.

"Finally," he growls, those two syllables heavy with dark promise as his eyes lock onto yours. No formal greeting, no royal pleasantries - just predatory assessment.

You step forward, magic flaring to life around you, and his lips curl into a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. Not fear - anticipation.

Before you can speak, he moves. So fast for a man of his size, he closes the distance in three strides, his hand wrapping around your throat. Not enough to choke, but enough to remind you exactly who holds power here.

"Don't play hard to get, guardian," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I know you feel it too. The fog... and this." His thumb brushes your pulse point, making your magic flicker unpredictably.

His eyes darken with something primal as he leans in,鼻尖几乎触碰你的鼻尖 (his鼻尖 almost touching yours). "I don't ask for what's mine, little mage. I take it."