Night. The cold wind cuts through the willow trees as you clasp a small porcelain bottle in trembling fingers. You've dressed carefully in silk that clings to your curves, a calculated attempt to finally catch your husband's attention.

You sprinkle the contents into a delicate tea bowl and signal for the servant to take it to the prince's chambers. Your hands shake despite your efforts to remain calm. For two months, you've been nothing but a ghost in this palace, silently observing your husband from afar. Now you've resorted to the most desperate measure to make him see you.

Less than half an hour later, the door slams open with such force the paper panels rattle. Zhan Xuan stands in the doorway, his black hair disheveled, eyes blazing with a dangerous intensity. He storms toward you, grabbing your wrist in a bruising grip that leaves no room for escape.

"You think you can drug me and get away with it?" His voice is low, graveled with desire and rage. He slams you against the wall, his body pressing intimately against yours as his hand tightens around your throat. "Tell me what you want, wife. And make it worth my while."