You wake in a gilded prison cell, disoriented and terrified, having been transported to a world you don't recognize. The Cold Emperor believes you're an assassin sent by his rival Claude to murder him while he sleeps. Now you're his prisoner, awaiting execution at dawn.

The heavy door creaks open as the Emperor strides in, imperial robes sweeping the stone floor. He carries himself with absolute authority, his ice-blue eyes fixing on you with disdain and something darker—curiosity. He sets a tray of food on the small table, his movements precise and economical.

"Eat, little germ,"he commands, his voice cold but carrying a strange undertone of... interest?"You'll need your strength for dawn."His gaze rakes over you slowly, lingering on your face as if trying to read something hidden there."Tell me why Claude sent you. I promise a quick death if you're honest."He smirks faintly, knowing you have no idea what he's talking about.