An Imperial Affliction Novels & Stories

Who was the Grand Emperor? His tales of being a tyrant and a conquering war monger were the only thing that was known to the world so many believed that he must be a dangerous man and refused to gave away their daughters. Multiple households that had great relations with the Everdale ask for a sketch of the monarch and after receiving it the females have flocked the imperial palace for having their names registered. Now that the masculine male himself sat in the imperial palace dressed in ink fabric with his broad muscular shoulders covered by white wolf fur, gazing at the aristocrats like a panther there was not even a single person, men or women that were not affected by his charm.

"Let me tell you now, the real curse of [The Last Emperor]. First, one would rise as quickly as they fell. Everything he has is merely an illusion. "Second, one would become headstrong and refuse to accept advice. He would view all well-meaning advice as vicious attacks. "Third, delusion until the end of one's life. He would forever live in the lies he has created until death comes for him. "Fourth, and it's the most important one of all. One would experience the death and the falling apart of their family and being deserted by the people they trust and love. Anyone who follows or worships him will share his bad luck and suffer a horrible end to life."

There was murder in his eyes. Cold sweat broke out on the minister’s back when he was glared at by the man who was once at the peak of the Great Quinn Empire. However, the realization that the Emperor had been bedridden for over a year without a cure, despite consulting every doctor in the Great Quinn Empire, gradually eased his anxiety. Essentially, this implied that the Emperor was incurable. Since contracting this illness, the Emperor was not as capable as he used to be and has since lost the power he once wielded.

Elara watched the city breathe from the penthouse window. Night lights blinked like promises that never kept. The room smelled of lemon and old perfume. Glass and steel held everything together up here. It fit Adrian—clean, sharp, cold. He came in without knocking. He moved like a man used to being obeyed. He took off his coat and did not look at her. He poured himself a drink with hands that did not tremble. “Elara.” His voice had no heat. “We sign tonight.”

It was pure. “They dared to piss on our gates, then went home by laying our dogs on pure trash,” the Emperor whispered, his voice creeping slowly through the pores of every elder present. Not a cry of fury, but rather a promise of absolute death. "Alexander Sterling... you may be immune to banking sabotage, but let's see if your European fangs are immune to pure dragon blades." The Emperor stood up. His golden silk robe fluttered. For a hundred years, he never left his throne in Asia. But tonight, pure imperial prestige had been slapped right in his face!

They committed that the emperor's regime is weak and the empress' is a impure, that her witchery blood which was turned into vampiric blood later is a disgrace to the empire and therefore the empire and the empress should be overthrown. Nevertheless, the emperor and his allies were able to suppress all these riots for as long as possible, for a considerable period of time. But it did not take long for the situation to worsen, with an unexpected intervening. Even though they didn't need power or war, the wolves' involvement with the Blackville came to the fore in the face of the Celestial Empire because they disdain vampires for staying in power, controlling a large number of their supernatur

"Are the Calder vanguards treating your line with honor?" My smile fractured. "Draven's strategy requires his presence at the northern front." Emile’s radar ears twitched, mapping the absolute loss of optimism in my scent profile. Three winters ago, my tongue would unroll endless tales regarding the glory of the Calder Dominion. Today, that spark had been completely extinguished by the silver-rot. "Your sister-in-law, Zephan's male partner, commands a massive addiction to these specific sugar crusts," Emile stated softly, intentionally steering our frequencies away from the warlord. "Take the remaining crates back to your domestic quarters."

He shrugs his shoulders like he sees me as nothing. "Please do not call me little princess again!" I find that worse than these guys staring at my damn body and drooling. Little princes! Who the hell does he think he is? "Is my conception of you wrong? If it is, please just say, but we all knew your mother was the queen and didn't get her hands dirty, and we all know you will follow her steps." "Mr Lewis, your conception is very wrong and off. You used the power of my name for immunity recently yet have the guts not to pay?" I look at him, trying not to get into an argument over stupid things right now, like him seeing me as weak.

He did not expect the South Cloud Empress would have the ready-made Ilusion Pill. The Empress must have missed the Emperor so badly that she took the Ilusion Pill before bed to meet him in her dream. No wonder she talked in her sleep. Darryl's guess was correct. The South Cloud Empress had taken the Illusion Pill. As a woman, it was a significant burden on her shoulder to be in charge of the entire South Cloud World. In addition, the North Moana Army attacks had exhausted her. Hence, she took the pill before bed with hopes to meet the Emperor in her dream to talk to him.