I Stole the Villain's Cat, and Now He Thinks I'm His Wife

[Akira’s POV]

The Imperial Palace smelled exactly the way I remembered it. Like old blood covered up by expensive perfume.

I walked down the sprawling, gold-leafed corridors of the central keep. Two dozen elite Imperial Guards marched in a tight formation around me. They held their spears perfectly straight, their faces locked in expressions of strict military discipline.

But I could hear their hearts.

They were beating like frantic, trapped rabbits. Every single man in this detail was terrified of me. They thought I was going to snap, turn into a giant monster, and eat them right here in the hallway.

Idiots, I thought, keeping my face perfectly blank. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t need to transform.

The heavy, gilded doors of the Grand Throne Room loomed ahead. The guards stopped, parting down the middle to let me pass.

I stepped inside, and the doors slammed shut behind me with a heavy, final thud.

The room was massive, supported by towering pillars of red cedar. At the far end, sitting lazily on the elevated Chrysanthemum Throne, was Emperor Shirakawa.

He didn’t look like a tyrant who had just stripped his own son of a title and forced his nephew into a political hostage situation. He wore simple, comfortable white silk robes. His gray hair was tied back, and he was smiling warmly.

He looked exactly like a kind, loving uncle. It was the most terrifying face he owned.

"Akira!" the Emperor beamed, his voice echoing in the empty hall. He waved a hand casually. "Come. Stand before the throne. Let me look at my new heir."

I walked slowly down the center aisle. I kept my Warlord aura completely locked down, burying the blue fire so deep inside my core that it physically ached. If I let even a spark of it out, the hidden onmyodo wards in this room would trigger a massive magical alarm.

I stopped at the base of the golden steps. I didn’t bow.

"Your Majesty," I said. My voice was flat. Cold.

"Oh, drop the formalities, my boy," the Emperor chuckled, stepping down from the throne. He walked over to a small, polished table resting on the steps. "We are family. It has been far too long. Twenty years in the frozen north... you look exactly like your mother."

My jaw locked so tight my teeth ground together. Mentioning my mother, the woman he had murdered to secure his throne, was a deliberate, calculated strike. He was fishing for a reaction.

I gave him nothing.

"I am surprised you summoned me alone," I said smoothly. "Usually, you prefer an audience when you deliver your threats."

The Emperor let out a hearty, booming laugh. "Threats? Akira, you wound me! I just named you the Crown Prince of the Empire. I gave you the highest honor in the land."

He picked up a delicate porcelain jug from the table and poured liquid into two solid gold cups.

"Drink with me," the Emperor offered, holding one of the golden cups out to me. "To your new future."

I looked at the cup.

My yokai senses were infinitely sharper than a human’s. Even from a foot away, I could smell exactly what was in the wine. It was a very expensive, sweet plum vintage. But layered underneath the fruit was the sharp, metallic tang of crushed nightshade, raw wolfsbane, and a heavy dose of spirit-suppressing ash.

It was a lethal cocktail. A human would be dead before the cup hit the floor.

He wanted to test me. He wanted to see exactly how strong my demonic immune system was, and if the ash could suppress my magical core.

I reached out and took the cup.

"To the future," I said deadpan.

I raised the golden cup and downed the entire thing in one gulp.

It tasted absolutely vile. Like a burnt shoe mixed with swamp water. But the moment the poison hit my stomach, my yokai blood flared to life. The blue fire inside me instantly incinerated the toxins, turning the deadly wolfsbane into harmless steam before it could even reach my veins.

I didn’t even cough. I just lowered the cup, staring dead into the Emperor’s eyes.

"A bit dry," I noted casually. "But a fine vintage."

The Emperor’s warm smile flickered for a fraction of a second. A flash of genuine, cold calculation crossed his eyes before he expertly hid it.

"You always did have a strong stomach," the Emperor chuckled softly, setting his own untouched cup down. "Ryu was weak. He proved that when he played with the bone giant. He lacked the spine to rule. But you... you are a survivor. A weapon forged in ice."

"I am a Warlord," I corrected him. "I defend my borders. I do not play capital politics."

"You do now," the Emperor smiled, clasping his hands behind his back. He began to slowly pace around me, circling me like a predator sizing up a meal. "And you brought quite the interesting piece to the board. Your wife."

My heart instantly stopped.

The Warlord aura inside me roared, violently fighting against my control. The temperature in the throne room plummeted by ten degrees. Frost began to creep up the edges of the red cedar pillars.

"Leave her out of this," I warned, my voice dropping into a vibrating, demonic rumble.

"Oh, but she is the Crown Princess now," the Emperor said innocently, his footsteps echoing on the wood. "I hear she attended a tea party with my concubines this afternoon. Lady Kiku sent me a very frantic message. Apparently, your little bride shattered a cedar table with a solid iron war fan."

I blinked.

The white-hot, murderous rage in my chest paused.

She did what?

A sudden, overwhelming surge of affection and pride threatened to break through my anger. My beautiful, practical, absolutely unhinged wife had brought the Tessen I gave her to a high-society tea party and broke their furniture. I was going to buy her a hundred more fans.

But I couldn’t let the Emperor see that.

"She is not used to capital fragility," I said coldly. "In the North, our tables are built to withstand actual weight. I will buy Lady Kiku a new one."

The Emperor stopped pacing. He stood right beside me, leaning in slightly.

"She is an anomaly," the Emperor murmured, dropping the friendly uncle act completely. His voice was like a poisoned blade slipping between my ribs. "A commoner from Kenji’s basement. No magical core. No aura. Utterly, completely invisible to the spiritual eye."

He turned his head to look at me, his eyes narrowing.

"And yet, she wears the Warlord’s Consort Mark," the Emperor whispered.

My grip on the golden cup in my hand tightened.

"It is a beautiful piece of ancient magic, the soul-tether," the Emperor continued smoothly, pretending to examine his fingernails. "It anchors the demonic blood. It keeps the Warlord sane. It turns a monster back into a man."

He looked back up at me. The malicious, absolute cruelty in his gaze made my blood run cold.

"But it is a double-edged sword, isn’t it, Akira?" the Emperor smiled a terrible smile. "If the Warlord loses his anchor... if the tether snaps... the Warlord loses his mind entirely. He becomes a mindless beast. And humans... humans are so incredibly fragile."

Snap.

The solid gold cup in my hand completely crushed under my grip, folding into a mangled, useless lump of metal.

He knew.

The Emperor didn’t just know that I loved her. He knew the magical mechanics of our bond. He knew that if he killed Kitsune, the grief wouldn’t just break my heart, it would completely shatter my mind. He was telling me, right to my face, that he held the detonator to my sanity.

My vision swam with blue fire. The urge to draw my katana and sever his head from his shoulders was so overwhelming it made my hands shake. I could kill him right now. I could end the empire today.

We don’t crack. We smile.

Kitsune’s voice echoed perfectly in my mind. She was in the East Palace right now, completely trusting me to keep it together. If I killed the Emperor here, a thousand guards would descend on her before I could reach her.

I took a slow, agonizing breath, forcing the blue fire back down into the deepest, darkest pit of my soul.

I tossed the crushed lump of gold onto his polished table. It hit the wood with a heavy thud.

I turned to look at the Emperor. I didn’t scowl. I didn’t roar.

I gave him a slow, terrifying, dead smile.

"She is clumsy, yes," I agreed smoothly, my voice completely devoid of emotion. "I would hate for anyone to accidentally startle her. Because if my tether were to snap, Uncle... my grief would be incredibly destructive. I do not think the capital walls are thick enough to stop a mindless beast."

The Emperor’s smile faltered.

He had tried to threaten me with my own madness, and I had just promised him that if he touched her, my madness would wipe his entire city off the map.

"We understand each other, then," the Emperor said, his voice dropping slightly.

"Perfectly," I bowed mockingly.

I turned and began walking toward the heavy doors.

"Akira," the Emperor called out before I reached the exit. "We are hosting an Imperial Banquet tomorrow evening to officially present you to the court. Bring your wife. The nobles are simply dying to meet the girl who broke Lady Kiku’s table."

"We wouldn’t miss it for the world," I replied without looking back.

I pushed the heavy doors open and walked out into the corridor.

The elite guards flinched as I passed them. They had every right to be terrified.

I was going to play the Emperor’s game. I was going to smile at his banquets and drink his poisoned wine. But the moment I found the opening, I was going to tear this gilded cage apart with my bare hands.

And then, I was taking my wife home.