My Taboo Harem!

Chestnut hair drifted around her face in the gentle rooftop wind, soft strands catching the last gold of sunset until they glowed as if lit from within. A few wayward locks brushed her bare shoulders, drawing the eye to the elegant column of her throat and the delicate hollows above her collarbones.

Her dress was long, exquisitely elegant, and black with a midnight-blue undertone that deepened and shimmered beneath the evening light.

Strapless, it curved across her chest in a graceful, heart-shaped neckline that framed and lifted the full, enticing swell of her breasts, the fabric hugging their generous curves with quiet intimacy — not overt, yet undeniably sensual, as though the dress itself had been cut to worship the soft weight and shape of them.

It clung to the narrow cinch of her waist before flowing smoothly over the gentle flare of her hips, the cut celebrating every line of her body with sophisticated restraint.

Against her skin the color made her glow warmer, more luminous, turning the bare expanse of her shoulders, the graceful line of her neck, and the upper curves of her breasts into something that looked almost too perfect to touch.

Her cognac-gold eyes lifted slowly as they took in the floating snowflakes, the crystal flowers, the glowing stairway, and the shimmering dome waiting like a private piece of heaven at the end of it all, her eyes widened and lit up with pure, breathless wonder.

The fairytale quality of the scene reflected in their golden depths — impossible romance made real, power bent into tenderness, every drifting flake and pulsing vein whispering that this had been created for her and her alone.

She did not speak; could not!

The scene had stolen the words from her, leaving only the soft parting of her lips and the stunned, luminous beauty of a woman who had stepped into a dream she had never dared to ask for.

Before her stood the impossible path.

Void-Ice steps glimmered like black-white crystal, each one catching the light and throwing it back in soft silver. Beneath the ice, Primordial Blood essence glowed in warm crimson-gold veins that pulsed with quiet, living rhythm — as though the ancient power itself recognized her and brightened in welcome.

Flowers bloomed along both sides, stems of pale crystal and petals in soft black, white, and blush-pink, as if winter had fallen in love with spring and neither had survived the embarrassment with dignity intact. Snowflakes drifted all around, black and white, lighting up like shy stars whenever the golden lamps touched them, some of them turning gently toward her as though even the air wanted to draw closer.

And above it all, waiting like a private heaven built from winter and devotion, the romantic blue-black-white dome shimmered beneath the dying sun, its black-white veins thrumming with a soft, steady pulse that seemed to echo the same quiet awe now shining in her eyes.

It was a fairytale.

No; fairytales were cheap beside this and could be printed by people with deadlines. This had been made by his hands.

’For me~’

Her eyes grew wet.

Phei descended the first steps slowly, one at a time, his gaze never leaving her. The wind lifted his hair and the snowflakes spun softly around him.

Behind him, the dome glowed with blue light and the black-white frost and warm candlelight, suspended against the sunset like an impossible promise.

He reached the bottom of the stairway and stood before her.

Then he extended his hand.

Her lips parted.

Tears slipped free before she could stop them.

Phei’s expression shifted at once, warmth and panic flickering together in his eyes because apparently a man could build a divine romantic rooftop from impossible elements and still be helpless before a woman crying.

"I made this evening to make you happy," he said softly. "Not to make you cry, honey."

Her chin trembled.

Phei’s hand remained extended.

"Did I fail?"

That broke her.

She did not take his hand and instead rushed into his arms.

Phei caught her immediately, folding her against his chest as she sobbed into him, her hands clutching the front of his royal attire. Her shoulders shook. Her tears warmed the fabric. She held him like the beauty of the rooftop had not merely touched her, but reached into some secret place and undone a knot she had carried too long.

Phei’s arms tightened around her.

"Hey," he murmured near her hair. "I really failed that badly?"

She shook her head fiercely against him.

"No," she said, voice breaking. "No, Phei."

He lowered his face closer. "Then why are you crying?"

She pulled back just enough to look up at him.

Her wet eyes were devastating.

Beautiful enough beneath tears that Phei almost forgot the joke sitting on his tongue. Almost. He was growing, slowly, like a morally questionable plant.

"It is the best evening of my life," she whispered.

Phei’s breath softened.

Her hands tightened on him. "No one has ever..." She stopped, swallowed, tried again and failed. The words would not come properly. Some feelings were too large for grammar, and grammar, fragile little servant that it was, chose this moment to abandon its post.

Phei smiled gently. "Then I did not fail."

She shook her head again, crying harder now, but smiling through it.

"No," she whispered. "You didn’t."

For a while, he only held her.

The floating snowflakes drifted around them. Lights touched their edges and made them glow like small stars. The wind moved through her chestnut hair and carried the faint scent of flowers along the path.

Far below, Hell’s Paradise Island glittered in the evening, distant and irrelevant.

Up here, the world had narrowed to her tears, his arms, and a stairway waiting to be climbed.

Eventually she looked up at him again, eyes still wet, cheeks flushed, lips trembling around a smile that made his chest tighten.

"Take me up," she said softly.

Phei’s smile changed.

"Gladly."

She expected him to take her hand.

He did not.

Instead, he bent and swept her into his arms

—A startled yelp escaped her as he lifted her in a princess carry, one arm beneath her knees, the other supporting her back. Her hands flew to his shoulders; her wide eyes snapped to his face.

"Phei!"

"What?" he asked innocently. "You said take you up."

"I meant—"

"I interpreted romantically."

"You interpreted shamelessly."

"Romance without shamelessness is just polite architecture."

She stared at him.

Then laughed through the last of her tears.

The sound was soft at first, then fuller, brighter, trembling with disbelief and happiness as she settled in his arms. Phei began climbing the stairway, one step at a time, carrying her toward the dome.

From this angle, everything changed.

The path rose beneath them in translucent black-white brilliance, each step lighting softly as Phei’s foot touched it. The Primordial Blood essence beneath the ice flowed like molten sunset, sending ripples of red-gold light through the stairway. The flowers along the sides leaned toward them as they passed, petals opening wider, releasing glowing motes that rose into the air and became more floating snow.

Lanterns swayed without chains.

The wind carried the snowflakes in spirals around them, and whenever the lights kissed those flakes, they lit up like tiny blessings.

She turned her head slowly, marveling at everything.

The rooftop below.

The city beyond.

The flowers.

The dome.

The impossible snow.

And the man carrying her.

Her waiting prince, dressed in black-white royalty, walking through a stairway of ice and living light as if he had torn a page out of heaven and rewritten it for her.

"How did you do this?" she whispered.

Phei looked down at her. "With extreme effort, questionable taste, and the sincere belief that you deserve only the beautiful things."

Her eyes filled again.

He immediately narrowed his eyes. "Do not start again."

"I am not."

"You are."

"I am overwhelmed, Phei."

"That sounds like crying with better vocabulary."

She laughed, resting her head against his chest.

Phei continued upward.

The dome grew closer, larger, more breathtaking with every step. Its Void-Ice surface shimmered with reflections of sunset and starlight, though night had not fully arrived yet. Inside, the single table waited, candle flames black-white and gold, two cushion seats placed close enough that no one could mistake the intention.

Above them, the second floor of the dome glowed faintly, hidden partly by frost and soft hanging flowers, a secret waiting for later.

Phei smiled at it; the evening had only begun.

And in his arms, she looked at the dome and whispered, "This is mine?"

Phei looked down at her.

"No," he said.

She blinked.

"It is ours," he corrected. "But I made it for you."

Her fingers curled into his clothes.

The last sunlight broke across the dome, spilling gold through the Void-Ice and scattering it into a thousand glowing flakes around them.

And as Phei carried her up the final steps, above the city, above the wind, above every ordinary evening the world had ever offered her, she held onto him and understood one thing with absolute certainty.

This was her romantic evening.

And he had built it by hand.

****

A/N: Who do you think is this?