THE EMPEROR’S FAVORITE
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She is the emperor’s favorite. The chosen one. The one who brings him pleasure, rest… and silence. Y/N is no slave, no ordinary courtesan. She is the most prized of them all: an imperial companion, a human with rare gifts, shaped to fulfill desires, soothe inner wars, and know the Emperor better than anyone else. Mark Grayson, conqueror of worlds, doesn’t trust easily. But he always calls for her. Between intimate encounters and carefully weighed words, between burning glances and heavy silences, Y/N learns that the most dangerous power isn't found in fists—but in what lies between sheets, in lingering touches, and truths that must never be spoken aloud. Because when you are the one thing the most feared man in the universe truly desires… the real danger doesn’t always come from outside.
Chapter 1: The Emperor’s Return
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The emperor has returned.
The news spreads through the base like a whisper turning into command. Soldiers run, officers shout; everything moves with absolute precision around a single truth: Mark Grayson, conqueror of worlds, has returned after a month of victories. And that can only mean one thing for me.
He’s not just any emperor. Mark doesn’t inherit power—he takes it. What he owns, he has claimed by force, planet by planet. He spent the last month in the outer rim, crushing a rebellious system no one had subdued in decades. Rumor had it their defenders used forbidden, hybrid technology, impossible to decode. He returned unharmed. With new weapons, new spoils… and new enemies eliminated.
His shadow stretches as far as the Empire’s light can reach.
I’m in my room, getting ready.
My body is clean, perfumed with lavender and vanilla. My skin, soft and flawless. I slip into a garment somewhere between a dress and lingerie, in blue and yellow—his colors, his symbol. Every detail, every gesture, prepared for him.
When the Viltrumites invaded Earth, they discovered that some humans weren’t as weak as they thought. A small group of women with special abilities—stronger, more resilient, gifted with something unique—was chosen. We became companions of the Empire, selected not just for our genetics, but for our potential. Not slaves. Sacred vessels. Instruments of silent conquest.
And among them… I’m the favorite. The brightest jewel in the emperor’s crown. His.
When the signal comes, I leave without hesitation. The guards watch me as I pass, desire in their eyes. But they know who I am. Untouchable.
The doors to his chambers open slowly. I enter, serene and confident, a soft smile on my lips.
“My emperor…” I whisper, bowing gracefully. “You’ve finally returned. I missed you.”
As I raise my gaze, our eyes meet.
Mark stands by the window, overlooking the city. Shirtless, wearing only training pants. His muscular body on display. At the sound of my voice, a sly smile forms on his lips as he turns to look at me, his crimson eyes locking with mine.
He approaches slowly, circling me as if inspecting me with his eyes.
“Ah, my favorite, Y/N,” he says, still smiling. “Did you miss me?”
I hold his gaze firmly, a playful smile curving my lips as I gently cross my arms over my chest.
“Always, my emperor,” I reply in a low voice, thick with meaning.
I take another step, closing the distance between us, eyes fixed on his, daring him to match my intensity.
“And you? Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”
My fingers lightly brush his arm. I know I’m playing with fire—but I also know I control the flame.
His eyes shine with curiosity and a hint of amusement.
“You’d be a fool to think otherwise,” he replies in a deep voice.
He doesn’t move. He’s testing me.
“I’m so glad to hear that, my emperor,” I say, using my powers to serve him a drink. “I truly longed for your return.”
He accepts the glass, watching every gesture intently.
“You have a very… particular way of showing your feelings, Y/N,” he says, sipping without taking his eyes off me. “I hope you were well in my absence.”
“I missed you greatly,” I say, stepping even closer, until I’m just inches from him. “I received your gift. I loved it.”
I smile sweetly as I gently touch the necklace I wear, a memento from the planets he has conquered. I know what each gem means: power, dominion, conquest. And he knows that I know.
Mark watches my fingers on the stones. He takes another sip. Moves a bit closer.
“I’m glad you like it. Every gift has a story… and you wear them so well.”
“Your words move me, my emperor,” I say, softly placing a hand on his chest. “But nothing I say can express how grateful I am for your return.”
My voice lowers to a whisper, thick with desire.
“Allow me to please you, to give you a welcome worthy of your greatness. One only I can offer.”
My eyes challenge him, invite him.
His gaze darkens, desire sweeping over his face like a deep shadow. He sets the glass aside, his hand brushing my waist.
“Oh, Y/N… your words are very… tempting. Do you truly want to please me?”
“Of course, my emperor. Let me show you how much I longed for your return.”
I gently guide him toward the bed. He sits. I begin to move—each gesture calculated, slow, sensual. With every step, a piece of clothing falls to the floor. No rush. Only intent.
My dance has no words, but it says everything: devotion, desire, power offered without reservation. From time to time, I lightly touch him—his shoulder, his neck. Teasing, never satisfying.
“You have no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”
I smile, finishing the dance, shedding the last veil. I approach, placing one knee beside him.
His eyes travel over my naked body. His breathing quickens. He grabs my waist and pulls me onto the bed, where we merge in an intimate and fierce moment.
The emperor has inhuman stamina. Not all can endure his strength. But I can. After three relentless hours, I finally get him to release inside me. He collapses on the bed, exhausted.
His breathing is ragged. He looks at me with something rare in his expression: vulnerability.
“You… always know how to wear me out,” he says hoarsely.
“I’m glad to know I pleased you, my emperor,” I whisper, pulling the sheets over me. I still feel his warmth on my skin.
After a few minutes of silence, I stir slightly, as if preparing to leave. It’s part of protocol. If he says nothing, I must go. But if he says my name…
“Y/N.”
His hand takes my arm. His voice is low but clear.
“Stay.”
I pause. I look at him. He holds my gaze.
“For you… always,” I reply sweetly.
I return to the sheets, settling next to him. My fingers trace soft patterns across his chest. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer. He watches my face in silence.
“I missed you,” he admits. He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear with rare tenderness.
“You honor me with your words, my emperor,” I reply without faltering. My voice, soft. I was trained for this. I ask for nothing. I demand no tenderness. I only give peace—and everything he desires.”
“You always know what I need,” he says. His tone is almost affectionate.
“It’s my duty to know you better than anyone,” I respond, keeping the perfect balance between intimacy and respect.
He gently squeezes my hip. Won’t let me move away.
“Maybe you’re not used to someone understanding you so well,” I add with a teasing smile.
His gaze sharpens. There’s a game here, one he seems to enjoy. He studies me. His thumb draws circles on my skin.
“There’s more to you than meets the eye, Y/N.”
“Sometimes, the key is knowing how to respond to the unexpected. That’s when the best are revealed,” I say while caressing his hair.
“Enlighten me.”
“Not everything can be planned, my emperor. But I… I know how to act when the unexpected arrives.”
“And you think you have the solution to that?”
“Not to everything. But I’m good at it. And you know that,” I reply with a soft, perfectly measured giggle.
Mark seems to soften, his usual hardness fading. He watches me with a mix of curiosity and appreciation.
“Your confidence is… impressive, Y/N.”
“Well, my emperor, I must have picked it up from you after spending so much time by your side. One of the perks of being chosen by you.”
“Chosen by me, huh?”
“And it is, my emperor. Who wouldn’t want to be next to the most powerful being in the universe—the one all fear and admire alike?”
He gently takes my wrist, his fingers playing with my skin.
“You’re talented at flattery… and you know it.”
“Don’t say that, you’ll make me sound like an actress,” I say, pouting slightly with a sweet voice. “You know I enjoy being with you, and you deserve every compliment I give.”
“You enjoy being by my side? Why?”
“You don’t know how much I value your words,” I whisper, letting him feel every syllable.
My fingers caress him patiently. Eventually, I get him to close his eyes. His breathing deepens. When I sense he’s asleep, I begin to move away—each motion measured, nearly choreographed.
Because if there’s one rule all of us in this job know, it’s this: never wake up in the bed of a man who isn’t your husband.
Men want to be pleased, to have their desires fulfilled… but at dawn, they’re different. And the worst thing you can do… is still be there.
Leaving before sunrise isn’t just dignity. It’s strategy.
What he doesn’t know is that, as I silently leave his room, part of him wished I had stayed just a bit longer.