277. The Emperor's blood

"I can smell your fear from here. Stop trembling already. Aysling didn’t accept the blood, did she?"

The Emperor put down the document he was reading and looked at the servant, who wore an expression of pure panic.

He didn’t even bother to get upset. He knew perfectly well she must be furious; he could still remember the look of disappointment in her eyes. Truth be told, it felt like his heart had been clenched in a fist.

"Please, Your Majesty, have mercy on your poor servants. No matter how much we begged the concubine, she… she…" The servant couldn’t even bring himself to say the sacrilege Aysling had committed.

Azura frowned, suspecting things were far more complicated.

"Speak already! What terrible thing did my woman do?"

Fifteen minutes later, when he reached the entrance of the Amethyst Palace, he saw the colorful mural his dear concubine had painted on the walls—using none other than his precious blood.

‘We don’t want scum here. The blood of traitors is only good for this.’

The
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