My Ending, My Choice
Born to foresee every fate but her own freedom, Diana has watched too many lives end in tragedy. Refusing to accept a destiny she cannot change, she defies prophecy, power, and family alike. When her choice pulls her into a deadly royal game, one question remains… can fate be broken, or will it break her first?
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Red Silk, Broken Knees
She kneels—not out of respect, but survival. Her red robe pools like spilled wine on the floor. The empress sips tea, calm as ice, while the girl trembles. In My Ending, My Choice, silence screams louder than swords. One glance says: this isn’t mercy. It’s calculation. 🩸
He Wears Phoenixes, But Feels Like Caged Birds
His robes scream authority—golden phoenixes, intricate threads—but his eyes? They’re tired. Haunted. In My Ending, My Choice, power doesn’t free you; it chains you tighter. That crown pin? Heavy. That lantern glow? Cold. He’s not walking—he’s waiting for the trap to snap. 🕊️
The Screen That Hides More Than It Shows
That floral screen isn’t decor—it’s a narrative weapon. She peeks through, heart racing, while he sits across the empress, smiling politely. In My Ending, My Choice, what’s hidden matters more than what’s spoken. The real drama? Happens behind silk and candlelight. 🌸
When Tea Cups Hold Blood Oaths
A porcelain cup. A single sip. And suddenly, the room holds its breath. In My Ending, My Choice, every gesture is coded: the empress’s pearls, the servant’s bowed head, the prince’s folded sleeves. No words needed—just tension, thick as incense smoke. This isn’t tea time. It’s trial time. ☕⚔️
The Lantern That Never Lies
That glowing lantern isn’t just light—it’s a truth-teller. Every step the minister takes, the flame flickers with his guilt. In My Ending, My Choice, even props whisper secrets. The prince watches, silent but sharp-eyed, as power shifts in shadows. 🔥 #CourtDrama