#clan of the lamb
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Been busy today lol, Iâve been wanting to get an AU design for ??? made since I played the update, in this AU they basically take the role of a starclan like figure, almost as if all of starclan were merged into one cat (hence why I actually named the figure Starclan in my AU play through). This design was a very fun time
#cult of the lamb#cult of the lamb art#cult of the lamb fanart#cotl spoilers#cotl ???#cotl#warrior cats#warrior cats art#warrior cats au#warrior cats fanart#clan of the lamb#clan of the lamb au
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Who abandons their own brother? Well Someone who loves him very much
Moon 0Â
Moon 46.1 - Moon 46.3
#ec moon#when they were little ringstar would sit on the porch and listen to the trees grow#something about the quietness of creation#when you love a lamb you hold its neck while you bleed it#ringstar lifts his arms and pleads#close your eyes#echoclan#clangen#warrior cats#clan gen#wc oc#warriors#clan generator#warrior cats oc
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A theory I can sort of stitch together is the idea that The Goat was a desperate plan B for Shamuraâthat before the Lamb could manage to kill all of the Bishops, Shamura would grant a Goat their own fragment of the purple crownâs power. Vessel vs Vessel, the choice of a goat being that the Goat is both a mirror and a diametrical opposite to the Lamb. A choice maybe bound in Shamuraâs cruelty in that the Goat invokes familiarity in the Lamb, maybe to play on their sentimentality, and drop their guard. I can see Shamura maybe having a fondness for goats in terms of warfareâgoats are raucous and chaotic, untamable (in my vision of them in the Lands of the Old Faith), and most have *impressive* horns that could gore even with just one strike of their head. Hell, goats headbutt for fun! For play! For bonding! While sheep occasionally do get a little ram-y (lol), theyâre more docile in comparison, and often sheep *can* get hurt by goats when they cohabitate. So if sentiment doesnât work, perhaps pitting the more âhardyâ (in terms of strength, not health lol) cousin species against the other wouldâbut I think ultimately Shamura would fail in this. Goats, even they know, are unpredictable and cleverâand known escape artists. A nature that Shamura sought to exploit, but instead will turn on them when the Goat decides they too are no longer interested in being their tool.
So, maybe Shamura had the Goat in wait in some Magic Bullshit Portalâfor the Lamb to discover instead of sending them directly after them. Idk!
Or you know itâs just an AU thing thatâs a fun little game mechanic with no real impact on the meat of the COTL narrative.
#I think Goatfolk have a vastly different societal treatment than Sheepfolk do#Goatfolk are troublesome#theyâre loud and rambunctious as opposed to the sort of passivity of most Sheepfolk clans#or whatever. this too is incomprehensible because Iâm just Frankensteining some ideas together#I just like that goat a lot smh#cult of the lamb is soooo interesting with its choices
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Beauty in desolation.
Part 4/4, Fin
First - Prev - Next
ââââ
I hope you all enjoyed what you voted for. Stay safe, drink water, and take naps :).
#clangen#clangen blog#clangen oc#clangen clan#clan generator#clangen story#clangen art#wc oc#wc art#run rabbit run#annihilation#clangen comic#lamb to the slaughter
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Would clan cats get bacon from hogs? If not, where do they get it from?
Hog bacon is the most prized, delicious type of bacon there is. There's no equal to the fatty taste of sliced pork belly on a grillstone, often soaked in honey or maple syrup to suit the ThunderClan palate.
But all animals can be baconized when there's no hogmeat left to slice up.
The second-best bacon is rat. For humans the strips are too small, but they're just right for a Clan cat! A really big, fat rat can make some delicious meat strips. There's a caveat though; Carrionplace rats taste like the garbage they eat. You'll want wild forest rats who've been eating nuts, berries, bugs and meats.
Muntjacs and roe deer can also be baconized nicely. The best bacon is always from the animals killed in leaf-fall, when they've all put on weight in preparation for the winter. In RiverClan, salmon can also be baconized by particularly adventurous warriors.
#girl help im making a bone broth and it's making my house smell good#Im hungry#it's warrior bites time literally just because I'm smelling low-simmer lamb bone#clan culture#warrior bites mini entry#bacon
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IT'S HAPPENING
#cult of the lamb#cotl#IT'S HAPPENING#I GOT THE ONE WHO WAITS PACK#IMMA BOUT TO RULE THE CLAN RAGHHHHHHH#IMMA NAME IS AUTUMN SHADE CULT
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I have decided to use Cult of the Lamb to make my own warrior cats clan.... I'm not starved for good content you are...
Thus far
I have added 3 cats. There are, in order, Horsestep (light brown with stripes), Daffodilfur (yellow and fluffy), Woodstem (dark brown and fluffy) Lavenderstripe (purple with stripes) and Waverunner (teal and fluffy)
Should shit go down I shall update
#cult of the lamb#cult of the clans#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats but in cult of the lamb#i make the followers a cat and randomize color and pattern#its kinda fun
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I know I have one billion aus but
Thinking about narilamb warrior cats au...
#its really silly ngl#and its mostly chill#narinder is a bloodclan leader/deputy so he keeps his name#and lamb is a kittypet that becomes a warrior later on when their owners leave them behind#and then the four bishops belong to the other 4 clans#kallamar: riverclan; shamura: shadowclan; heket: windclan; leshy: thunderclan#the bishops and nari are siblings that were born in bloodclan but each end up in each clan#which eventually made narinder hold a grudge around them bc of it#puffy talks
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oky okay okay okay so theres so many reasons why theyd pick irida as leader im crazy im thinking rn so much
#z rambles#i cant type but i do have the ideas#hope and pity? shes just like a sacrificial lamb#idk im crazy about her theres so much#but why did they pick her over palina? glad u ask. guilt#like they did sth. sth that makes them feel so much guilt and regret that this decision was just an act of mercy#a good deed to make themselves look good. an appeal to the new leader#i could really write an entire essay about irida omg im. i cant#i have so much to think but im horrible at words it just sucks its so bad#like this dont make sense to u but to me. like my mind.#my mind ya know its. my mind. powerful#i can be worse about this but i choose not to. for everyones safety....#LOOK JUST. JUST KNOW THEM PEARL CLAN BITTIES R NOT THE MOST GOOD HEARTED OF PEOPLE#im sure u can tell i like to make the pearl clan worse than the diamond clan and theres reaons for it#i wont say it but jus tknow my mind is powerful and ive connected sooo mny dots trust me#im normal
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ft. crown prince!itoshi sae x commoner!femreader x second prince!itoshi rin (only bc you are rin's fiancée)
đĄ synopsis. you were chosen to be the second princeâs fiancĂ©e for rinâs convenience, but fate had different plans when you fell for his older brother, the crown prince, instead. as you start hearing strange voices during your engagement ball, sae falls victim to alexisâ curse, which only your love can break. what happens when news spread of the crown prince's revival and rin finds out?
â content warning. 13.3k (yikes)ă royal au ă classism ă cheating themes & pdaăâ rin is rude, offensive, & insulting ă your parents & sis for plot are assholes ă semi-arranged marriage (?) ă reader is illiterate ă narration heavy ă reader gets called whore once ă implied death & gorish description ă implied stranglingă animal murder ă minimal implication of shorter readerăthe relationship with sae is highkey rushed now that i reread it.
notes. this took me two weeks+ to finish ahhh. i thank my past self for being obsessed with manhwas so muchh, and ty to rhymezone for saving my ass w/ the ancient poem. first time using capital letters when writing fanfics, only bc it's really long though, eeee.
In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon,
When Stars Align and Shadows Loom,
The Greatâs Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night,
By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.
But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,
Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,
With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,
To Bring the Order, End the Storm.
A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,
In the Embrace of a Simple Face.
But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,
For This, Will Lead to Oneâs Gentle Doom.
âI beg your pardon, Your Majesty,â your father stammered, âM-My eldest daughter has fallen gravely ill, and I fear she physically cannot journey to the Grand Empire of Aquaria tomorrow!â
The kingâs eyes flared open in shock as the words reached his ears. His grip on the plush armrest of his throne tightened, the baroque carvings digging into his palm.
âWhat?!â He yelled, dismissing the fan bearer with a sharp glare before rising from his throne and taking two steps forward. His shadow covered large over your fatherâs trembling figure.Â
âShe chooses now, of all times, to be stricken with sickness? At a crucial time for our kingdom? Such insolence!â He descended three more steps and glared down at him. âDid you forget that His Imperial Highness has specifically requested a lady from your clan?â
âIââ
The king struck his scepter harshly against the floor, silencing the man. âAll the other houses of your garbage clan bore only sons,â he spat, âShe will go, and that is final!â
âActuallyâŠâ the commonerâs lips pointed upwards in a well-rehearsed smile as he placed a hand over his heart in false politeness. âI have another daughter. Sheâs eagerâ eager to fulfill her duty. She is twenty, two years younger than the prince, but still of age.â
King Orion arched an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a sneer. âVery well,â he replied, waving his hand in disinterest as he returned to his throne. âSummon her.â
In truth, the kingâs concern wasnât with Aria, your older sister. He cared little for which daughter was offered up to Aquariaâs second prince. It was a political necessity, nothing moreâ a favour to His Imperial Highness, Prince Rin. Or more like a fulfillment of Rinâs rather odd request that came with a threat. As long as someone from your clan was presented, it mattered not to him whether it was your sister or some other sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.
At the call of your name, the guards creaked open the heavy doors, and you entered the throne chamber slowly. When you reached the foot of the throne, you lowered your body in a curtsey bow, your gaze fixed on the scarlet carpet that stretched beneath you.
âIt is my greatest honour to stand before you, Your Majesty,â you said, though your indifferent tone made it clear to anyone listening that you longed for nothing more than to be anywhere but here.
But you knew the truth behind this charade. Aria wasnât ill. She was the jewel of your parentsâ eye, their pride and joy, shielded from the Empireâs gaze like a pirateâs precious treasure. You, on the other hand, were the forgotten oneâ the daughter they kept hidden, a mere shadow in their halls, easily discarded when it was convenient. To your father, you were a little more than a weight around his neck, an extra mouth to feed, a burden he was eager to rid himself of.
The kingâs eyes scanned you up and down, his expression visibly souring as he took in the sight of your tattered ankle-high, brown dress and scuffed boots. Disgusting.
âUgh,â he muttered under his breath, leaning on one elbow as he sneered at you. âSheâll do, I suppose. Pretty enough for their tastes.â He turned to his chancellor with a condescending wave. âHave the maids find something more⊠suitable for this one.â
The chancellor bowed deeply, âAt once, Your Majesty.â
âAlright, youâve packed everything, havenât you?â your mother asked as she rubbed Ariaâs shoulder comfortingly.
Your gaze drifted to the battered briefcase lying at your feet. You had stumbled upon it by accident, shoved into a forgotten corner of the dirty attic, coated in layers of dust and practically falling apart at the seams. With a sigh, you bent down to pick it up, nodding as it threatened to collapse.
âYes,â you murmured, a bitter smile tugging at your lips, âThere was hardly anything to pack, anyway.â
Your father scoffed, rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Aria, who had begun to shed what you knew to be crocodile tears. The act was almost laughable. She suddenly broke free from their grasp and rushed over to you, flinging her arms around your waist with a dramatic sob.
âY/N!â she cried, âPlease take care of yourselfâ hicâ Iâm going to miss you so much!â
You hesitated for a moment before stiffly returning her hug. She was a liar, through and through, and you both knew it.Â
Before the act could continue, the distant sound of hooves clattering against cobblestone paths captured your attention. Gently, you pried yourself away from her clutches, turning toward the approaching sound.
Your breath hitched. The Empireâs Royal Carriage was quickly nearing, and it was no exaggeration to say that its massive size dwarfed everything coming its way. It was magnificent, its gleaming white exterior and elegant navy blue designs that were above the huge clattering wheels. Silken curtains furnished the windows, embroidered with golden threads that caught the eyes of your greedy family. But what truly stole your attention was the shining silver crown perched atop the carriage, with Aquariaâs Royal Crest.
âListenââ your fatherâs obnoxious voice cut through your admiration. He leaned close, his voice coming out in a hiss, âYou better behave yourself, got it? If you mess this up, itâs not just youâ itâs all of us. Understand?â
You shrugged off his threat with a nonchalant nod, âIâll do my best.â
The sounds of the porcelain horses neighing were suddenly right behind you. They looked so soft, so immaculate, that you had to resist the urge to reach out and glide your fingers through their carefully groomed manes. But you knew better. This was no place for such frivolities.
The royal coachman descended from his designated seat and approached you. His right hand gracefully flew to his heart and he bowed slightly, his eyes closing for a brief moment.
âGreetings, my lady,â he said, straightening himself elegantly as his brown eyes met yours. He took your worn briefcase from your hand and placed it gently in the carriageâs wide storage compartment in the back. Then, he slid aside the long curtains and extended his hand toward you.
This was it. The moment you stepped into that carriage, you would leave this wretched life behind forever. No more grime, no more being hidden away like some shameful secret. You would be freeâ or at least you clung to the hope of freedom.Â
Taking the coachmanâs hand, you felt the fine material of your simple sage gownâ one begrudgingly gifted by King Orionâ brush against the spotless steps of the carriage. You could hardly believe you, of all people, had the privilege of entering something so grand, so expensive.
For one last time, you glanced back at your so-called family. They stood there, masks with feigned expressions of sorrow worn over their faces. But you werenât fooled, and you certainly werenât going to indulge them. Instead, a slow grin crept across your face and you mouthed a few words that served as a final act of defiance.
âShitty lives for shitty people, I guess.â
â.... lady,â
âMyâŠ.â
âMy lady!â
âHmâŠâ You muttered drowsily, your eyelids slowly fluttering open to the sight of the coachman and several other servants peering in at you with concerned expressions. Startled, you shot upright, your hands grasping the seat beneath you. âY-Yes!â
So far, you were off to a great start.
But now, as you finally stepped out of the carriage and beheld the regal palace before you, every bit of exhaustion from the long ride seemed to dissolve. The sight of it stole your breath and you tried to conjure up a word to describe it, but words escaped you. Beautiful, perhaps, though even that felt insufficient. Magnificent, maybe.Â
There were towering stone sculptures and a large marble fountain in the center, its water elegantly cascading down like it was raining crystals. The front lawn was meticulously trimmed and maintained till perfection. The walls of the palace shined, built from pale limestone that you recognized from years of working with fire and sedimentary rocks. And at the peak of the palace dome, a lone flag fluttered in the breeze, proudly displaying the Royal Crest of Aquaria.
Your home now.
Yet, no lines of maids awaited your arrival at the main entrance, as youâd always imagined from reading those fairytale books youâd find tucked away in your attic. And there was certainly no sign of your supposed fiancĂ©â His Imperial Highness, Itoshi Rin, the Second Prince of the Empire.
But then again, it made sense. You were just a humble village girl, after allâ hardly worth the attention of someone as important as him.
The sudden neighing of a horse behind you jolted you from your thoughts, and you spun around. There, your gaze locked with the prettiest set of eyes you had ever seenâ legendary teal irises framed by lashes so thick they casted a shadow on his cheekbones.
If the palace was magnificent, then he was simply breathtaking.Â
Your heart stuttered in your chest as you instinctively took a step forward toward him, prepared to pinch fistfuls of your dress and bow down to him.Â
He must be your fiancé, you thought. How could he not be? Those eyes were a symbol of royalty. His dark, reddish hair swayed with every blow of the wind, and the way an exquisite sapphire brooch shone against his royal attire screamed authority.
What did they call this phenomenon? Love at first sight? But thenâ
âWelcome back, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince!â a unified set of voices suddenly echoed from behind you in greeting, and you whipped your head back to see every servant and the carriage driver on their knees, their heads bowed low, and their hands clutched to their chests.
Crown Prince? Your breath caught in your throat. The Crown Prince? In other words, the future Emperor of Aquaria?
His gaze left yours to briefly sweep over the kneeling palace workers, before he waved his hand dismissively. âRise.â he ordered. His deep voice made you feel a sudden tightening in your throat, and you had the urge to obey though you werenât even on your knees.
When his eyes returned to you, you flinched, every nerve of your body feeling on edge. You drew in a sufficient amount of fresh air and held onto bunches of your gown, bowing respectfully.
âG-Greetings, Your Imperial Highness,â you stuttered.
Sae guided his horse to a halt and swung his leg over the saddle, dismounting and landing on the grass smoothly. He gave the mare a gentle pat, and you suddenly felt conscious as he approached you in long strides.
He stopped just in front of you, eyes seemingly studying you. âYou are?â
You swallowed nervously, daring to meet his aquamarine gaze. âY/N,â you said softly, âThe Second Imperial Princeâs fiancĂ©e.â
His eyes narrowed and he closed them fleetingly before opening them again. âI see⊠That foolish younger brother of mine.â
You remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Your sparkling eyes flickered to his mare standing patiently beside him for a moment too long. Her coat was as white as fresh snow, and it almost hurt your eyes the way the sunlight reflected off her.
He noticed. âOh, her?â He nodded toward the horse, gesturing for you to come closer. âGo on. You can touch her if you wish.âÂ
Your eyes widened in disbelief, trodding towards him in excitement. âMay I, really?â
âSure, whatever,â he muttered nonchalantly, though his gaze softened slightly. He was more focused on observing the horseâs reaction to you.
With careful hands, you reached out and gently raked your fingers through her silky mane. A delighted giggle escaped your lips as the fauna neighed softly and nudged your hand for more of your kind attention.
âSheâs beautiful,â you whispered, and he hummed in interest. You paused for a moment, glancing at the prince curiously. âWhatâs her name?â
âCelestia,â he replied, pulling on the horseâs rein before folding his arms over his chest. He watched you interact with the animal. âShe rarely warms up to anyone, but it seems as if she likes you.â
Your eyes lit up with surprise and you smiled, your fingers still tangled in the horseâs mane. âCelestia is a beautiful name⊠It suits her. Sheâs as white as the moon.â
For a brief moment, the prince turned his head to the side, as if he was hiding something from your view. He wouldnât admit it, but heâd trust anyone his beautiful horse liked. His fingers slipped through his tousled red hair, and though his voice slightly carried a tone of arrogance, it was also laced with something else. âTch. Thanks. I named her myself.â
You laughed lightly, âHow old is she?â
âTurning nine soon,â he answered, giving her a pat. âSheâs the mother of a black stallion.â
Your eyes twinkled in awe, fists clenched in front of you as you beamed up at him. âSheâs a mother?!â
Sae raised a brow, leaning back slightly. âYouâre standing too close.â
âA-Ah, my apologies, Your Highness,â You stuttered, retreating several steps just in case. âI⊠I seem to have forgotten my place,â
âNo, itâs quite alrââ He started, lifting a hand as if to stop you from backing away, but was interrupted by one of the pesky servants from Rinâs wing of the palace. â...â
âI-I apologize for interrupting y-your conversation, Your Imperial Highness,â She panted, bowing low, âBut The Second Prince has requested his fiancĂ©eâs presence for a private audience.â
Sae clicked his tongue in annoyance, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he mounted Celestia. âI guess it cannot be helped. Fine, whatever.â
Your heart sank slightly, a wave of disappointment looming over your ethereal features. Your pretty eyes downcast and fists clenched lightly by your sides. You had hoped to stay just a little longer, either with the man you had mistaken for your fiancĂ© or perhaps with the beautiful horse. You werenât sure which had captured your fascination more.
You thought that, perhaps, if Rin was not unlike his brother, then marrying him probably wouldnât be so bad.
Still, with a deep breath, you held onto your skirt and followed the maid. But just before you left, you glanced back over your shoulder at the First Prince with a smile so pretty it could coax the sun out of the sky and make even the stars envious.
âSee you around, Your Highness!â You called out, waving your arm before turning around to trail after the servant woman.
Sae stood frozen for a heartbeat, his thoughts clouded by the ghost of that smile. Something stirred in his chest, something unfamiliar and probably unwelcome. He huffed quietly, silking his hand through his hair before muttering under his breath.
âYeah⊠see you.â
Your heart raced as you stood before the polished double doors of Rinâs chamber. You swallowed hard in an attempt to calm your nerves. Your breaths came in shallow, like there was some sort of invisible weight pressed against your chest.Â
Your hand hesitantly hovered mere inches from the door. You hadnât even met the man and yet the tension was thicker than when you had personally greeted the crown prince.
The maid beside you fidgeted, clearly just as anxious. She stammered softly, âMy ladyâŠÂ j-just knock and wait for his word. I-Iâll take my leave now.â
You nodded, watching her scurry away so quickly as if she couldnât wait to be out of the princeâs domain. You blinked in thoughtâ if the servants in this wing were this jumpy around him, it didnât bode well.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling fingers. After whispering a few reassurances to yourself, you finally raised your knuckles and knocked gently on the door.
No answer.
A few more seconds passed before you tried again, but this time you heard a deep, irritated voice call out.
âEnter.â
You gulped and planted your hands on the heavy door, pushing it open. The moment you stepped in, you held in your breath. The interior was extravagant beyond wordsâ a room fit for royalty, as expected.Â
Your enlarged eyes scanned the deluxe chamber, mouth unintentionally falling agape at all it held. But the awe immediately vanished as your gaze landed on Rin. The prince stood by a grand archtop window with his back to you, gazing down at the Aquaria Royal Gardensâ which, to compare in size, were bigger than your whole village fit together.
He turned at the sound of your entrance, his sharp eyes immediately narrowing with a look of disdain. His voice was flat, yet annoyed. âQuit ogling and close the door behind you.â
It was an order, and you felt your body immediately move on its own. Your hands fumbled as you quickly shut the door, unable to keep the heat of embarrassment from rising to your cheeks. You lowered your gaze, focusing on the rosa aurora marble floor beneath you.
Rinâs eyes raked over you, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. His eyes were just as icy as his brotherâs, but where Sae had a certain aloofness, Rinâs coldness felt like a blade to the throat. He eventually crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you condescendingly, âNo proper greeting?â
Your mind scrambled. âAh..!â Your fingers gripped onto the fabric of your dress tightly as you bowed stiffly. âItâs a pleasure to meet you, Y-Your Imperial Highness,â
He let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if the very sight of you was an inconvenience. âHorrible posture,â he muttered. âYour etiquette needs a lot of work.â
Your heart sank further, and humiliation washed over your whole face. You straightened up and pursed your lips together tightly, the words sticking to your throat like superglue, afraid that whatever youâd say next would only make matters worse.
He remained quiet and turned around, walking to the large seating area in the corner of his chamber. You hesitantly followed after him, taking a seat right beside him on the burgundy plush.
He eyed you sideways, clearly displeased. â...Really?â
âUmâŠâ You shuffled your feet awkwardly, the fabric swishing against your ankles. âSitting in front of you would be presumptuous of me⊠How dare I make eye contact with someone as great as you, given my position?â
He rolled his eyes at your words. âHow audacious.â
âOhâ Your Highness, youâve got an eyelash on your cheek,â You started, instinctively reaching out to brush it away. But before your fingers could make contact, his hand snapped out, roughly swatting yours away.
âDonât fucking touch me, commoner scum.â He hissed.
You immediately withdrew, rubbing your stinging hand gently. You bit your bottom lip to keep quiet. âI apolââ
âGo sit in front.â
You obeyed without question, your body moving on autopilot as you rose from the sofa, taking a seat across from him. If you hadnât the guts to defy your parents, what made you think you could defy a prince? You didnât even have the strength to be angry; you were too preoccupied with trying to hold yourself together under his oppressive gaze.
What followed was more of an interrogation than a conversation.
âCan you read?â
âNo.â
âWrite?â
âNo.â
âTable manners?â
âI eat with my hands.â
â... Can you do anything at all?â
Your fingers twisted nervously in your lap as you swallowed thickly, embarrassment creeping up your neck. âI can make really good vegetable soup...â
â...â
The silence stretched out, and you could feel your self-worth slowly becoming nonexistent. After a moment, he stood with a sigh, making you flinch.Â
You averted your gaze to the window and you tapped your foot anxiously against the floor. You realized you were swallowing thick lumps of nothing more than usual. All his questions were glazed with layers of dripping haughtiness and it hurt when you realized how useless and worthless you were as you answered each one.
âNo, this is good,â He assured, almost to himself, as he began unbuttoning his white shirt. You looked up at him, confused.
âGood?â You repeated softly.
Rin approached you with his shirt halfway undone. He stopped just in front of you, leaning down with an expression so intimidating it sent shivers sprinting down your spine. âDo you know why I chose someone as lowly and pathetic as you, peasant?â
You rubbed your clammy palms together and paused. âI think I might have an idea,â You whispered.
âOh? Continue.â
âYou want to win the publicâs favour, perhaps?â you guessed carefully, âbecause it shows a connection to those of lower statusâŠâ
He raised a brow, âHm. Youâre smarter than you look.â He admitted.
But his next words made your blood run cold. His hands found your shoulders, his fingers gripping onto them with not much force as he leaned closer. Your gaze ashamedly darted down to his peeking sculpted chest before flicking up to his eyes.
âAfter Iâve become emperor instead of that shitty brother,â he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, âyou will bear my child. Then, Iâll find a way to get rid of you.â
Your whole body was trembling as soon as his hands left your shoulders. You could feel your teeth clattering slightly as you stared at the floor, unable to speak. You tilted your head up and watched as he slowly slid off an oval-cut sapphire ring, rimmed with shimmering stones of diamond, from his finger.
âGive me your hand,â He ordered impatiently.
You nodded immediately, extending your hand in front of him with starry eyes. Without a word, he slipped the opulent band onto your ring finger, careful not to make contact with your skin. You pulled away and admired the accessoryâ youâd be set for a thousand lives if you sold this heavy thing.
âThank youâŠâ You smiled softly.
âThis ring is a royal heirloom, along with one other,â He warned, pointing to the Crest engraved in the gemstone. âDo. Not. Lose. It.â
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the ring, nodding quickly, âYes⊠I wonât.â
âGood. Now go. The maids will show you to your chambers. Be ready for your etiquette lessons tomorrow.â
You rose from the sofa shakily, bowing once more. The difference between this man and the one youâd met earlier was staggering, and you already had a not so vague idea on who you preferred.
âThen I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Your Imperial Highness.â
Your eyelids felt heavy as you tried to open them. You blinked once, twice, three timesâ your vision blurred with remnants of sleep before gradually sharpening into clarity. But what you saw around you was anything but familiar.Â
Gone were the days of waking up to dusty cobwebs and the cracks and crevices of a wrecked ceiling that you had grown used to. Instead, your eyes met a vast, polished quartz ceiling, glistening in the morning light. Above you was a fancy chandelier, its long golden-framed vines dripping with crystals, and glass trickled down from the hooks.Â
You shifted beneath your plush cover and froze for a second, because this soft sensation was just as unfamiliar. No more prickly stacks of straw or thin, rough blankets. No, today, you had woken up in luxury.
As you sat up, memories of yesterday flooded your mind. Oh, right. You were absolutely shocked when you were first led to your room. You could say you were floored by its eleganceâ far larger and more lavish than any room you had imagined youâd get. Though it still paled in comparison to Rinâs personal quarters, it was hard to grasp that this space was your room.
You remembered indulging yourself in a little tour last night, exploring it in awe. There was a massive walk-in closet, filled to the brim with fine dresses and gowns of rich silks and satins. Accessories like cocktail hats, jewel-studded heels, and purses of gorgeous colours, all of which you couldnât wait to try, filled the shelves.
The grandest thing you had ever owned prior to this was a ring made of a flowerâs stem.
But as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Your heart jumped as you realized someone was in the room, and you let out a small squeak, instinctively clutching the covers.
âSo youâve finally woken up, my lady,â came a gentle, slightly amused voice.
You blinked rapidly, your gaze locking onto a pair of soft amethyst eyes. The young woman standing beside you had ginger hair that fell to her shoulders in soft curls, her pale cheeks peppered with specks of pretty freckles.
âW-Who are youâŠ?â You asked carefully.
The woman set a pair of fluffy cotton slippers on the floor beside your bed, then gave you a small curtsy. âEleanor, my lady. I am your lady-in-waiting.â
You slid your feet into the slippers, still feeling a little dazed. Eleanor busied herself with smoothing the bed linens as though it were the most natural thing in the world. âMeaning..?â you echoed, sitting up straighter.
She chuckled lightly. âMeaning Iâll attend to your personal needs and assist you with your duties to make sure you are well taken care of.â She gave you a smile, âYouâre new to all this, arenât you?â
You looked down at the marble bashfully, nodding your head, and admitted softly, âYesâŠâ
âHaha, thatâs quite alright. But letâs not waste anymore time! We have to get you ready for today!â
â... Huh?â
You were absolutely pampered.
The question constantly lingeredâ what had you done to deserve this? Probably nothing but you were thankful that you went in the stead of your older sister.
Just a short while ago, you had been treated to the greatest bath of your life, courtesy of Eleanor. She had insisted it was part of her duty as your lady-in-waiting, but it seriously felt like a ritual reserved for queens. She skillfully massaged your muscles and rubbed your scalp with rosewater serenade. And when her hands worked authentic vanilla lather across your skin, you smelled like a warm, freshly baked biscuit. An upgrade from your baths in the river.
Currently, you were seated on a leathered stool as Eleanor combed through your hair with care. The reflection in the mirror in front could leave you gushing over yourself for hours. Your gown was a waterfall of midnight blue silk with intricate silver embroidery. Your waist was still uncomfortable from the pressure of the tight corset, but the result was definitely worth it.Â
A delicate web of pearls hung from around your neck, cool against your collarbone. You absentmindedly toyed with the silver tassel earrings as Eleanor finished adding the final sprinkle of silver glitter to your styled hair.
âYou look absolutely breathtaking, my lady!â She exclaimed as she clapped her hands together to dust off the excess shimmer.
You smiled admiringly, turning your head left and right. âThank you, Eleanor. I never thought I could look like this...â
You stood from the stool, walking towards the door before her voice stopped you in your tracks.
âWait, my lady!â
You turned, watching as she carefully presented a delicate box etched with faint leaf patterns. Nestled inside were a pristine pair of white fine lace gloves that were long enough to elegantly reach the elbows.Â
âHis Imperial Highness the Second Prince has ordered that you must wear these whenever you are with him,â She said quietly.
âAh. Thanks.â
You understood. It was slightly disappointing that your fiancĂ© would go to such lengths to avoid touching you. Was the prospect of touching you truly that distasteful to him? But you shrugged off the thought and removed your heirloom ring before sliding the gloves on. You put back the ring on top. It wasnât everyday you got to wear something this refined. Perhaps it would be everyday from now onâŠ
But then, the memory of Rinâs chilling words echoed through your mind. âThen, Iâll find a way to get rid of you.â
Your heart clenched and you shook your head. As long as you did as commanded, you were sure youâd be fine.
âLetâs go, Eleanor.â
Your body tensed under the penetrating gazes of the countless servants. Their stares followed you as you walked down the Main Hall of the right wing, heading towards the heart of the palace.
They werenât even trying to hide their gossip. Why would they? Servants here were no ordinary peasants, they were people of the lowest class of nobility. Sons and daughters of Earls, Counts, Barons.
âHis Highness must be smitten,â one maid said, âJust look at her dress!â
âIsnât she from the slums?â
âAnd she wears the Royal Heirloom on her finger!â
âSo, the rumours were true, then?â
âI heard she thought she'd be marrying the Crown Prince.â
âPftt, Thatâs embarrassing.â
The hushed whispers suddenly quieted down to zero, and you assumed it was probably Eleanorâs doing because you could literally feel her piercing gaze though she was trailing respectfully behind you.
âItâs alright, Eleanor, leave them alââ
The words died in your throat the moment you caught sight of himâ the man you first encountered when you arrived at the palace. He was exiting the Council Hall, deep in conversation with what looked like an advisor or high-ranking official. Your heart skipped a beat as you instinctively lifted the hem of your dress and rushed towards him.
âYour Highness!â you called out, your voice chirpier than you had intended.
He turned at the sound of your familiar voice, his eyes widening just slightly in surprise. For a fleeting moment, it seemed you had embodied the grace of a princess⊠had your heel not caught beneath you. You stumbled, eyes squeezing shut as you braced yourself for the fall. But instead of tasting the cold, hard floor, a pair of strong hands caught you, steadying you by your waist.
âCareful,â he warned softly, his hands lingering for just a moment before falling back to his sides. âYouâre not used to heels.â
You laughed awkwardly, but you could not hide the disappointment that washed over your expression as his hands left you. âNo, itâs my first time.â
He paused. His eyes stayed on you for a moment longer than they should, taking in the way your dress perfectly complimented your figure. But he realized this, and his gaze quickly shifted to the golden deer emblem mounted on the wall.
âYou⊠look different,â He continued, rubbing the back of his neck.
The hall suddenly felt hot, or maybe it was just the heat radiating from your face. You dipped your head, fiddling with your clad fingers. âOh, do IâŠ?â you sputtered softly, but you silently cursed yourself for replying in such an awkward manner. Of course you looked different!
âAhem,â Eleanor chimed in, coughing into her fist dramatically. âNot to interrupt, but I hear some alarming footstepsâŠâ
âIf you slack off one more fucking time, Iâll display your decapitated head on a pike to serve as an example for your pathetic kind!â a voice yelled from behind.
Rin stepped out the Council Hall, his face an angry scowl as he finished lashing at the minister who scurried away like a frightened animal. His eyes then flickered towards you and his older brother, and his expression soured further.
He turned to look at your lady-in-waiting, speaking sternly. âI thought I told you to bring her to my study,â
âWe were on our way, Your Imperial Highness,â Eleanor responded politely, bowing her head.
âIncompetent.â
Rinâs attention shifted to you, noticing the lacey white covering up to your elbows. Without warning, he inched forward and closed the distance between you, his hand snaking around your waist. You tensed as his not unwelcome grip pulled you closer, your palm instinctively flying up to settle on his chest. You looked up at him gently, hesitantly, but his eyes werenât on youâ they were locked on his older brother.
He eyed his brother suspiciously, âWhat are you still doing here?â He asked. âShouldnât you be preparing for your trip to Berlina?âÂ
âBerlinaâŠ?â You repeated in confusion.
âThe Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic,â Eleanor quickly whispered into your ear, leaning in with her palm covering her mouth.
Saeâs expression remained indifferent, clearly unbothered. âShouldnât you be focusing on more important matters right now?â He let his eyes wander lazily towards your hand on Rinâs chest before he smirked. âLike⊠sharpening your embarrassingly inadequate swordsmanship skills?â
Rinâs face contorted in anger and his neck flushed a deep red. His grip on your shoulder tightened just enough to make you wince. âYou bastard⊠Youâll regret this.â He seethed through clenched teeth.Â
The Second Prince glanced back at Eleanor in disgust, âYouâre dismissed.â
He looked back at you, noticing your extravagant dress, before furrowing his brows. âThe dress youâre wearing is too fancy for a day with no important occasion.â
You glanced down at your blue gown and shrugged. âEleanor chose it for me,â
âWho?â
ââI personally think it suits her just right.â Sae broke in suddenly, wearing a smirk on his face as though he found pleasure in annoying his younger brother.
Rin narrowed his eyes at him. âWho asked for your opinion? And what were you two talking about, anyway?â
The Crown Prince hummed, leaning against the wall behind him. âLetâs see. Well, I told her she looked different, and helped her up when she tripped on her heels.â
âTch.â
âBut be careful,â Saeâs lips twitched into a small grin, his gaze drifting to meet your eyes. âkeep your eyes on this beauty else I might steal her from you. Isnât that right, my lady?â
Thump. Thump. Thump.
âYour Highness, even if you joke around like that, I donât think my heart can take itââ you whispered, and Sae chuckled lightly, though Rin quickly pulled you behind him.
âThatâs enough, stay away from her.â He glared, barely affecting Sae. âYour little jokes arenât funny.â
âWho said I was joking?â The eldest quipped nonchalantly, and Rin just rolled his eyes.
âLetâs go.â He exasperated, holding onto your wrist and dragging you alongside him.
As his hand guided you away, you looked over your shoulder, searching for a familiar pair of tourmaline eyes. Ones identical to those of your fiancĂ©âs. But instead, all you saw was a broad back and auburn hair shifting as he walked away in the opposite direction.
Rin slammed his fist against the hardwood of his desk. That interaction seemed to have spilled gasoline to the blue flames in his eyes, which were already burning with rage. âThat bastard thinks he can keep playing games with me!â
You remained still, hands folded patiently over your abdomen. The last thing you wanted to do was provoke him further.
After a tense silence, Rin let out a sigh and collapsed into the plush seat behind his desk. âItâs alright,â he began, his voice softening just slightly. His gaze locked onto you in a way that made blood rush quicker through your veins. âYouâre my ticket to becoming the emperorââ He leaned forward. âI need you.â
Your breath hitched in your throat at those words, but you knew not to expect much. Still, you mustered a sweet smile. âIâll do my best, Your Highness. You were mentioning todayâs scheduleâŠ?â
He leaned back, propping his arm on the armrest. âRight. My father is holding our engagement ball next week. Every noble house will be there to congratulate us. In the week leading up to it, you will perfect your manners and court etiquette. Understood?â
You gulped hard as a huge bag of responsibility was suddenly thrown onto your back. A week? To not work on, but perfect everything?
â...Understood.â
â
â... After you master public speaking skills,â Rin went on, âyouâll focus on formal dining etiquette. I donât want you embarrassing me by eating with your hands. Then, youâll have dancing lessons and study Royal Dress standards. You also need to be familiar with Aquariaâs history, diplomacy, and customsâ especially royal protocols and responsibilities, andâŠ.â
His voice continued on, listing task after task. Your head was spinning, and you thought you were going to faint and collapse to the ground. This wasnât the fairytale youâd imagined. You signed up for the fun part of being a princessâ the ballgowns and the makeup, and maybe kissing the prince. This was a chore, the kind that made growing carrots and potatoes seem like heaven in comparison.
âBy the end of this week, I expect you to be flawless. Iâve brought in the best tutors for reading, writing, and everything elseâ all that easy stuff. Do not disappoint me.â
You nodded automatically, but not before adding an innocent thought that had slipped into your mind, in a slightly sarcastic manner. âHave you perfected your swordplay, though?â
Now the temperature in the room seemed to drop down to zero as he bore his narrowed eyes at you. You felt a cold shiver run up all your bones, and your knees weakened. âYou think youâre funny donât you? Do you really want to play this game with me?â
Your bravado crumbled. âN-NoâŠâ
âThen get some rest,â he ordered. âYour training starts this afternoon.â
You nodded and quietly turned to leave the study.
Six long days had passed by since your lessons began. Six mentally and physically exhausting days.
Your dance instructor was a strict middle aged lady with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, who worked you till your feet were bruised. She made you balance books and vases on top of your head as you marched back and forth, her shrill voice cutting you off whenever your posture was horrible, or when you mixed up the steps for a dance made for another song. Although you loathed her guts, you couldnât deny the significant improvement of your poise.
The dinner etiquette lessons, however, offered a time-out from that hag. Yes, you learned the basics of formal diningâ how to keep your elbows off the table, chew with your mouth closed, use the silver utensils correctly, and pat your lips clean with the patterned napkins. But, the best part, or reward, was tasting the delicacies they served. Truffles, lobster coated with butter, and tender lamb chops. And then there were the fancy dessertsâ macarons pumped with ganache filling, puff pastry, tartelette au citron, Ă©clair au chocolat, and more.
All of which you had never dreamt of tasting in your life, you who had never tasted anything more luxurious than a loaf of bread.
You also learned how to read and write, not for the reasons you preferred, but good nonetheless. You had found a particular fondness for the history lessons, which were not tedious at all. You were focused at all times much to your mentorâs surprise. Learning about the Royal familyâs reignâ how they had ruled over neighboring lands for centuries, managing resources, trade, and financeâ fascinated you.
But your ears always managed to tune in and pick up the subtle gossip rotating among the maids and servants in the halls and libraries, so you had learned a few things.
The two princes were locked in a one-sided rivalry. One was fighting crystal and pickaxe for the crown, while the true heir showed little interest in the throne he was destined to inherit.
Sae, the eldest, wasnât just entitled to the crown by birthright. He excelled at everythingâ swordplay, defense, archery, and horseback riding for royal ceremonies or simple trips to cities. His skills were polished to literal perfection. Rin, on the other hand, was skilled, but not extraordinary. He always lived in the shadow of his brother.
Yet Rinâs desire to become emperor wasnât merely a wishâ it was a burning, desperate need, an ambition to prove himself worthy. To finally win against Sae.
Killing his brother, of course, was out of the questionâ such an act would be treason. Besides, Rin didnât just want him gone; he wanted Sae to see the moment when he ascended the throne, to admit defeat, to acknowledge that Rin had bested him.
Rin believed that the key to winning favour with their fatherâthe current emperorâand the people was to flaunt his achievements, which, to remention, were not as good as Saeâs. But his sharp tongue and cold demeanor made it difficult for him to win many hearts. Sae learned to place a mask behind his foul words, whereas Rin still struggled to.
And thatâs where you came into the picture.
You werenât just his fiancĂ©e; you were part of his strategy. Heâll show you off before the court and the public, showcasing to the world how he transformed a mere commoner, a peasant, into someone of worth.Â
You came from a disgusting, needy village, yet now you stood in royal fits. To Rin, you were a symbol showing his ability to elevate those beneath him. A tool to gain the favour of the people. You could read and write now, you were beautiful, and in the eyes of the kingdom, you had the potential to become the empress one dayâ if, of course, Rin managed to seize the crown from his brother.
â
It was late at night, and the moonâs natural light filtered through your curtains. You moved to your huge window and brushed aside the rosegold-embroidered fabric as you peered down at the Royal Gardens. The view was similar to that of Rinâs, since your chambers were three spare rooms away from each other.
You were exhausted, but you always had time to admire the water spilling down elegantly from the angel sculpturesïżœïżœ stone lips, or the beautiful shrubs clipped into topiaries.Â
But all the exhaustion you felt moments ago suddenly vanished when your eyes caught sight of someone unexpected.Â
It was the Crown Prince. You had seen Sae around the palace during these tiring six days, and youâve engaged in many small talks with him without Rinâs knowledge. Conversations flew naturally with him, he asked you about your life before the engagement, and though you were initially hesitant, you found yourself speaking openly with him. There was a strange ease to Sae that, oddly enough, only you seemed to feel.
You stared at him a bit too long, your gaze almost boring a hole into him, and he sensed it.
Pivoting on his heel, he made direct eye contact with you from below. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you hurriedly pulled the curtain closed. But he could still see your silhouette, and when you peeked your head out slightly from the curtain, you couldâve sworn youâd seen him chuckle.
With a quick gesture of his hand, he beckoned you down to the gardens. Your pretty eyes widened, but you found yourself nodding eagerly with no hesitation. How could you refuse?
â
Panting softly between giggles, you rested your hands on your knees.
âI canât believe you ran to meet me in your⊠nightgown,â Sae remarked, his lips curving into a subtle smirk.
You straightened and boldly stepped closer until you were only centimeters away from him. Your eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and you shone a smile brighter than la lune.Â
Saeâs breath caught in his throat as your face came full view and he felt his body still. You were Rinâs fiancĂ©eâ he shouldn't be looking at you like this. But the glow of moonlight was making it hardâŠ
â... Youâre beautiful,â the words slipped out naturally.
Heat flooded the sweet curves of your cheeks at the way he said it so casually, so suddenly. Your gaze dropped to the freshly cut grass, your fingers nervously tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.Â
âThank you,â you muttered quietly, your voice barely above a hush.
Silence followed. But comfortable, nonetheless. Then, you noticed his hand, palm up and waiting in front of you. You blinked up at him in confusion.
âI am aware that I am in no position to do this, butâŠâ He paused, âMay I have this dance?â
Your eyebrows shot up comically in surprise, glistening doe eyes widening for the hundredth time tonight. Your heart was thumping so fast you thought it might burst from your chest, and you feared he might hear it.
It was risky, you knew that. If Rin were awake, he might have been watching from his windowâ his chambers were so close to yours. You knew how much he enjoyed looking from his window from the time youâve spent together in the past week. But, he had dismissed you earlier to rest and this moment alone with Sae was tempting.
Hesitantly, your hand hovered over his before relaxing and letting it fall in his grasp. You met his gaze, and you shyly whispered,Â
âI know weâre not supposed to be doing this⊠but I want to.â Your fingers intertwined with his, and you smiled softly. âMay I have this honour, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince?â
Sae glanced down at your hand weaved between his fingers. His brows furrowed in a frown, and a wave of panic washed over you. You literally felt your heart leap out of your chest. Had you overstepped your boundaries?
âI was only kiddââ
But instead of pulling away, he gently hooked his finger under the wristband of your glove, sliding it off your hand. You felt warmth bloom across your cheeks as he slowly removed the other glove too, making sure to leave his touch lingering on your bare skin.
âYou donât need to wear these ridiculous gloves to bed,â he said, âItâs unnecessary.â
Your cĆur fluttered. âI⊠I just forgot,â you mumbled, embarrassed.Â
He rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a smile as he clasped your now bare hand, while the other found its place on your waist. The fabric of your silk nightgown was thin, and his touch felt intimate, direct, and you could feel his fingertips pressing lightly against your skin.
He led you in a slow dance gracefully under the protective gaze of the serene moon, delicately spinning you before your arms naturally draped around his neck. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. He looked so good, he smelled so good, his touch so gentle. You wanted him.
âDo you like these gardens?â He asked suddenly, giving you another twirl.
You nodded, lacing your fingers in his. âI do. Itâs quiet. The palace can be⊠overwhelming.â
Sae raised a brow, âOverwhelming, huh? For someone like you, I suppose it would be.â
The words stung slightly, but there was no malice in his voice. You dared to meet the eyes you came to adore, âAnd you? Why are you here, Your Highness?â
He paused, then turned slightly. âIâm avoiding another council meeting. Youâd be surprised how tedious it can be listening to old men argue for hours on end.â
You laughed softly, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened. He pointed toward a part of the garden in the distance. âCome with me,â he said simply.Â
You followed, trembling as the Crown Prince led you with his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. When you came to a stop, your breath caught in awe. Before you were roses of every shadeâ deep crimson, soft peach, porcelain white, and candy pink.
âTheyâre gorgeous,â you gasped.
âRight.â Sae bent down and plucked a single red rose from the bush, turning to you with a small, rare smile. âThe red ones are my favorite,â he murmured, carefully tucking the rose into your hair.
You smiled sheepishly, gently patting the rose heâd placed. âThey remind me of strawberry jaââ
âThey remind me of blood,â he interrupted with a casual voice.
You blinked, startled by his answer. âR-Right.â
He chuckled softly, rubbing the area around his neck. âI can see why Rin chose you.â
You looked at him for a few seconds before quickly shaking your head. âHe didnât choose me, he just wanted any girl from our clan. My older sister was supposed to go, but I went in her stead. Besides, Iâm nothing special⊠just convenient.â
âConvenient?â His gaze darkened slightly before his hand came up to rest on your chin. â...Donât sell yourself short. Youâre more than that.â
Your head quickly tilted down and you began to fiddle with your fingers, then with the simple lace adorning your neck. âYour Highnessâ stop saying things that make my heart, I donât know, hurt?â
âOh?â He placed his hands gently on your cheeks and you looked up at him lovingly. âThat isnât good for Rin, is it?â
You shook your head, âNo, it isnât. But he doesnât make me feel this way.â You boldly placed your palms on his shoulders and stood on your tippy toes, and as soon as he leaned down slightly in approval, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
He tapped his forehead against yours and smiled. His heart was beating a bit quicker, and he found it dangerous. âWell, Iâm afraid I must leave now.â He drawled.
Your heart sank a little, your ethereal eyes flicking down. You nodded slowly, âThank you for your time, Your Highness.â
He looked down at you, his expression softening. Slowly, he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. âIt was a pleasure, my lady.â
If he couldnât hear your heart thundering in your chest one thousand miles per hour moments ago, then he sure could now. As he disappeared, you placed your hand over your chest, rubbing over the spot where heâd kissed.
It seemed like Sae had yet again bested Rin in a game neither had realized they were playing.
Tonight was your engagement ball, the grand celebration that would officially announce your impending marriage to Rin.
You were both in his chamber, dressed fully in fancy outfits. He wore an elegant white attire adorned with the brooch of Aquaria and a navy blue sash draped across his chest. You wore a pitch black gown embroidered with gold, matching gloves, and heavy golden jewelry that Rin had exclusively bought for you.Â
The party had already begun downstairs, the grand ballroom filled with the most important guests from across the empire. But the grand entrance of the soon-to-be bride and groom had to wait for the Emperorâs speech, set to occur an hour after the festivities commenced.
âItâs a lunar eclipse,â you mused admiringly, leaning against the window. The moon, bloody red from the umbra, hung in the night sky ominously. âIâve read about the phenomenon in the Royal Library. The stars look so close⊠they look like they could fall right into our hands.â
Rin rolled his eyes and walked closer to you, resting his hand on your further shoulder. He stared out the window in boredom. âHow poetic,â he muttered sarcastically. âEven the moon is congratulating us tonight.â
You turned your gaze from the sky to him, your hand gently smoothing out a small wrinkle on his sash. âItâs time, isnât it? We should head to the Ballroom.â
He grumbled in response, pushing your hand aside as if your touch was unnecessary.Â
The intricate grandfather clock suddenly chimed loudly. Midnight had arrived.
Tick.
âIn the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red MoonâŠâ
Tick.
âWhen Stars Align and Shadows LoomâŠâ
Tick.
A strange voice seemed to rise from nowhere. You flinched visibly, a shiver creeping up your spine as the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You quickly found Rinâs hand and grasped it tightly.Â
âD-Did you hear that?â You shuddered, voice trembling.
He raised an eyebrow. âHear what? Youâre imagining things.â
You shook your head, swallowing hard. âNo⊠I swear, I heard somethingâ like a voice. It wasâŠâ
He scoffed, shaking his head dismissively. âItâs just the clock ticking. Donât start getting all nervous on me now.â His grip tightened around your hand, but you doubted it was for your comfort. âYouâre going to be on your best performance for me, Got it?â
You hesitantly nodded, your gaze lingering on the moon for a few more seconds. The red, eerie glow still haunted your thoughts. You reluctantly turned away, looping your arm through Rinâs to exit the chamber and enter the grandeur.
âYesâŠâ
âAnd I want to thank you all once more for attending tonightâs ball,â The Emperorâs proclamation boomed from behind the closed doors. The attention of every soul present was on him. âI would now like to announce the formal entry of The Second Prince of Aquaria, and his fiancĂ©e, a soon-to-be princess, Y/N!â
The large doors, decorated with orchids and bloody red roses, parted dramatically to reveal you and Rin hand in hand. The Royal Guards on each side immediately stiffened and raised gloved hands to their head in salute.Â
The aristocrats hushed immediately and their eyes followed as you both stepped onto the red carpet, descending the grand staircase and heading towards the two thrones.
You halted just below the steps of the thrones, immediately lowering your head in a bow of respect alongside Rin.
âGreetings, Your Imperial Majesties,â you murmured, lifting your head as you learned to.
â... Thank you, Father, Mother,â Rinâs voice followed formally.
Your gaze shifted towards the Empress. You particularly loved her as her lovely crimson hair always seemed to remind you of Sae. Oh, speaking of the Crown Prince, where was he? You hadnât caught a glimpse of him yet.Â
You turned your head, eyes subtly scanning the room in search of a distinct redhead. And in the corner of your eye, you found him leaning casually against a balcony pillar, arms folded over his chest and eyes closed.
Your gaze softened at the sight of him before refocusing on the mob of aristocratic ladies and noblemen that had rushed to circle your betrothed as soon as the Imperial Greetings were over. They approached and offered smiles under snobby and vexing expressions, backhanded compliments under the guise of praise.
âSuch a refreshing choice, Your Imperial Highness!â A brunette lady gibed, fanning herself with an elegant fan as she slyly smirked, âYouâve truly outdone us all in⊠originality.â
A Lord chuckled beside her, his laugh insufferably pompous. âI must say, Your Highness, I certainly admire you embracing such humble roots! A prince of the people! Ho ho ho!â
âIâm glad we have such a reliable prince who values all his subjects equally!â
âIt is odd that His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince hasnât found a lady yet.â One brought up.
An Earl added, âThatâs true. Heâs supposed to step up to the throne sooner or later. He needs an heir once he becomes Emperor.â
You squeezed Rinâs hand discreetly as he bit his lip in frustration at the mention of his brother. He needed to restrain himself at least this one time.Â
âI appreciate your sentimentsââ he began, but faltered for a split second. âNo I fucking donââ You squeezed his hand again, giving him a gentle nudge, and he cleared his throat. âYour support is reassuring,â he finished with a strained smile.
As your fiancĂ© continued chatting with the backhanded nobles, your attention kept drifting towards Sae, stealing quick glances every now and then. He had begun conversing with a group of higher officials and ministers, likely discussing Berlina, The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic that he had frequented many times to strengthen the Empireâs growing alliances.
Loud enchanting music began to play from the orchestra and many already established couples began to dance in the center. Expensive and rare gifts began to pile at your feet, congratulatory offerings from various guests. Rin accepted them indifferently and reluctantly offered his thanks with as much enthusiasm as the stone sculptures that lined the ballroom.
âThis jewel was found in the Ancient land of Topion and is thought to bring good fortune!â
âThis exotic bird from Elakis produces gold everytime it sings!â
âThis sword is forged by a legendary ghost smith whose body lives in the volcanic depths of Loo!â
You froze when Sae stepped forward as the next gifter, and it seemed like the entire room was also holding its breath. He approached, your widened eyes drifting down to the elegant box in his hand. He opened it, revealing an intricate necklace with shimmering, round pearls.
âAn authentic pearl necklace crafted by the Merman Emperor of Eau.â Sae presented with his usual calm demeanor, making it hard to believe that he had spent days negotiating with the merman to create a necklace exclusively suitable for you.
Your mouth parted in surprise, and the words tumbled out. âOhâ thank you! Itâs⊠beautiful.â
Rin rolled his eyes, gently fisting your hair and lifting it to expose your neck. âYou didnât have to do that,â He hissed through gritted teeth, looking at Sae with teal eyes that crinkled in hate.
Sae met his brotherâs glare with a simple hum, fastening the beaded necklace around your neck. You bit your lip tightly as his touch lingered on your skin, looking down at the pearls that beautifully settled against your collarbone. âThat would be disrespectful to you both, Iâm afraid,â He said. âEven Our Father, the Emperor, has offered her pleasantries.â
Rin clicked his tongue and looked back at you, wrapping his arm possessively around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, catching you by surprise. The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes at the gesture.
âCome on, darling,â Rin emphasized as he spat out the term of endearment, though he internally cringed and wanted the ballroom to rupture and swallow him whole. The pet name left a bitter taste at the tip of his tongue. âItâs time for our dance.â
You nodded, your lips parting to speak, but, âOf course, Your Highââ
âThe Greatâs Fate is Sealed in the Veil of NightâŠâ
That haunting voice again. Your ears were ringing. You quickly squeezed your eyes shut and froze in your tracks.
â...By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.â
âI-Itâs the voice again!â You whimpered, hands flying to your ears in a desperate attempt to block out the sound. âI hear it!â
Rin scoffed loudly, glancing left and right at the guests who were exchanging confused looks. Sae, on the other hand, seemed out of it, with half-closed, bleary eyes.
âQuit it, you fool!â Rin cursed in annoyance, his patience snapping. He grabbed you by your shoulders and yanked you to his chest away from their judgemental gazes.
âVoice? I donât hear anything,â a lady whispered.
âNeither do I,â someone else chimed in.
A voice snickered, âShe said âagainâ.â
âHis Imperial Highness must be marrying someone with auditory hallucinations.â The words stung as they left another nobleâs mouth.
Then, in an instant, the ballroom plunged into darkness as the bright chandeliers went out. The ballroom was only illuminated by the glow of a large bolt of lightning, and a thunder rattled so violently it deafened you and shook the windows. When the bulbs flickered back on, a shrill ladyâs voice pierced the silent room.
âT-The Crown Prince! Heâs not moving!â
All eyes shot to Sae, who lay motionless and graceful on the floor, hand on top of hand. He looked calm, as though he was merely resting.Â
You gasped in fear, hands flying to your mouth as you tried to stay balanced on your feet. Rinâs eyes in particular were the widest. The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted to terror as everyone noticed the ink-blue vines creeping slowly up his neck, thorn designs wrapping themselves around his throat.
âT-Thatâs⊠Alexisâ Curse!â The Emperor panicked.
You had read about it. Alexisâ Curseâan ancient legend of a wizard scorned by love. His heart had been shattered by the daughter of a shoemaker, Michelle Kaiser, who had chosen her Earl lover over him. She always refused Alexisâ advances, and the gifts heâd always present.Â
Enraged, Alexis had cursed the Earl, condemning him to a fate of eternal sleep unless the one he loved kissed him to break the spell. The curse wasn't one of eternal youth, howeverâthe body continued to age, to decay, until there was nothing left but ugly bones.Â
But because Alexis had disposed of his inked body in his tower, the Earl had died alone, Michelle never finding him.
The curse had become a myth, that Alexisâ wrath was aimed at those of high status, warning them of the dangers of meddling with those beneath them.Â
But the noblesâ faces were literally drained of colour because what had once been myth was now terrifyingly real, before their very eyes.
It had been a few weeks since the disaster during your engagement party.
They had sealed Saeâs lifeless body deep in a chamber within the Main Palaceâs basement. You attempted sneaking in multiple times, but you failedâ the entry was heavily guarded and there was too much risk. And besides, if slipping past your lady-in-waiting wasnât hard enough, Rin had become increasingly possessive as the possibility of being promoted to Crown Prince rose. That is if he was elected as so in the Royal Committee Meeting.
He was proud enough that heâd permit small acts of closenessâ letting you remove your gloves when in his presence, even sharing his chamber. So, you would never risk waking him up while trying to sneak into the basement.
You recalled the aftermath of the disastrous ball vividly:
â
âI never knew he was so pathetic,â Rin sneered that night, running a hand through his dark hair before resting it at your throat and squeezing lightly. âFalling in love with you? A commoner? He must be out of his mind.â
He chuckled as he released you, pulling you into his chest.
âThe whole Empire is so stupid. They think he fell in love with someone else. But itâs better this way.â
â
Yet despite Rinâs actions, your thoughts remained with Sae. Youâd spent the weeks caring for Celestia, his white mare, as well as tending to Rinâs black stallion which he had never bothered to give a name to. You learned from the stable workers that Celestia was the mother of the charcoal horse.
Tonight, however, a once in a red moon opportunity presented itself. Your fiancé was away on royal business in Yelund, negotiating financial matters with their government in place of the Crown Prince. You took this chance, knowing it was the only one, and decided to sneak out.
You left your chamber, clutching a cage with a rat youâd found in the servants residence. You made your way through the darkened corridors until you reached the entrance of the basement. You hid yourself behind a large stone pillar and took a deep breath, tossing a small block of cheese across the room as a distraction.Â
The guards were alarmed by the subtle noise and quickly whipped their heads and ran towards the sound. You bit your lip in concentrationâ everything was going according to your plan. You quickly released the rat from its cage, watching it scurry across the concrete, and silently slipped into the Royal basement. You sighed in relief as you heard a guard's voice.
âOh, itâs just a rat. Guards, get back into position.â
â
You slid off your heels so that your bare feet barely made a sound as they grazed the stone steps of the staircase. The basement wasnât very illuminated if not for the dim candles that hung on the wall, and the stench was not horrible as you thought it would be. Instead, it smelled like preserved jasmine.
You were at the last step when you put your hand on the concrete wall, trying to catch your breath.
At the bottom, in the center of the relatively smaller room, stood a rectangular crystal glass box. Inside it, Sae lay perfectly still. The sight of him made your gaze soften and your heart clench as if it was put in a meat slicer. His skin was pale, but it was bolded, in contrast, by the inky blue vines tracing thorn and rose patterns across his body.Â
His cheeks and ears were faintly flushed by a baby pink dust, and his lips looked so soft, so gentle, so inviting. Stray strands of his red hair lay on the cushion beneath him, his long lashes resting against his cheekbones.
You were aching as you approached the enclosure. Your fingers trembled as you pressed them to the glass, your breath slightly fogging the surface. Tears blurred your vision as they began to roll down your cheeks, and you leaned down to gently caress his cheek with your bare hand, feeling the coolness of his skin.
You sniffled and your palms went to rub your glossy eyes, before you straightened up and curled your fingers on the glass in a tight grip. He looked beautiful, you thought, with roses that matched his hair colour surrounding him all over.
âYour Imperial Highnâ no, Saeââ you whispered, âI⊠I love you, too.â
You cupped his face with quivering hands, your thumbs rubbing sweet circles on his skin as you contorted your body awkwardly to reach him. The glass was positioned high, at your waistâs level, so you had to twist your body and bend to touch him intimately.
Sae remained unmoving, yet you had hoped that somewhere deep within his slumber, he could sense your touch, or the sincerity of your unsteady voice confessing your reciprocated love.
As you leaned in to kiss him, that same sharp voice that you always hear yet again cut through your ears, and you instinctively covered them with your hands for protection.
âBut From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,â
Your heart thumped faster in your chest as you tried to shake it off.
âShall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,â
Beads of cold sweat trickled down your templeâ you could never get used to the voice, no matter how many times youâd heard it.
âWith Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,â
Your hands fisted at the cotton under Sae, inhaling deeply before bending down until your face was inches away from his.
âTo Bring the Order, End the Storm.â
Your lips hesitantly hovered over his mouth before you fluttered your eyes shut and pressed them against his in a kiss. Your lips together were so soft, yet they werenât moving against each other like a mutual kiss would. They locked seamlessly in a way that felt strangely natural, as if the pair were made for each other.Â
Your lips lingered against his for a few seconds, and you wanted to relish the moment more, but you felt a subtle shift in Saeâs body. A faint flinch, almost imperceptible, ran through him, and the blue roses on his skin suddenly began to glow.
You pulled back before you could fully comprehend what was even happening, your lips just brushing his as you turned and sprinted towards the stairs. Fortunately, the guards on duty were in the midst of a shift exchange, so you assumed you had gone off flawlessly.
But not entirely.
A certain awakened man had caught a glimpse of your hair as it bounced during your escape.
The first light of morning stabbed your eyes, and they fluttered open abruptly as you realized Rinâs hands were on your shoulders, shaking you harshly. His face was itched in a deep scowl, his breath hot against your skin.
âWhat the fuck is all this about? This is what I come back to, you fucking whore?â He fumed venomously.
You blinked in confusionâ your head was still fogged with sleep, after all.Â
âW-What..?â
â
The usual tranquility of the whole palace was broken by hurried, squeaky footsteps and frantic voices. News of the Crown Princeâs revival had spread like wildfire through the Royal Quarters: the sleeping prince had defeated the curse and had awakened after only a few mere weeks.
The servants and maids rushed through the hallways, scrambling to prepare for what would be an unexpected audience. Gossips and rumours flowed through every corridor of the palace faster than the head maid brewing herbal tea in preparation for noble guests.
And in the Royal Gardens outside, hundreds to near thousands of noblemen and noblewomen who were alerted of the Saeâs revival gathered, dressed in their finest dresses and suits.Â
Oh, you were so fucked.
â
âM-My lady, this isnât good!â Eleanor cried as she ran into your room, âHundreds of guests have arrived in the Throne room, and both princes are there too! His Imperial Majesty is now urgently awaiting your presence!â
Your hands instinctively wrapped around your abdomen, and you suddenly felt nauseous. Your body shook slightly, your teary eyes fixing themselves on the ground. You loved Sae, you really did, but doubt was gnawing at your organs. Kissing him felt right in that moment, yet you were starting to regret ever doing it.Â
What if he didnât want your help? What if your peasant lips had tainted him? What if he didnât want you?
âI⊠I donât want to go,â you hiccuped, walking around your room in circles. âIâm so stupid, I should have neverââ
âNo, my lady,â She interrupted gently. âYou must.â
You gulped and nodded hesitantly. Rinâs anger lingered in your mind like salt and pepperâ his eyes were boiling over with rage, his face tinted a deep crimson red. You had never seen him like that, and now, as you stepped into the crowd gathered in the grand hall, all heads turned to look at you in a way that made you even more uncomfortable.
But the Emperor, however, did not seem angry. Weird enough, he looked elated for reasons you couldnât yet pinpoint.
As Eleanor had said, Rin and Sae were both present, standing opposite each other like the rivals they were. Rin was struggling to contain the way he was absolutely fuming, while Sae was blatantly staring at you with no intention of hiding it. Unlike the way you usually reacted to the Crown Princeâs gaze, you felt rather nervous, flexing and unflexing your fingers.
You pinched the fabric of your simple gown and bowed low, and the thin patterns of the marble floor never seemed so interesting.
âGreetings, Your Imperial Majesty,â you addressed.Â
The Emperor nodded in acknowledgment, before turning his attention to Sae expectantly. âMy son.â
âYes, father.â
Before your wracked mind could process what was happening, Sae suddenly began striding toward you. Rin was a considerable distance away from you but he also furrowed his brows in confusion. A million thoughts started to run through his mind and he felt the unease creeping up his spine. Had they planned something behind his back?
Sae came to a stop in front of you, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt his arms, so muscular despite being under layers of hand-crafted clothing, loop around your waist and pull you close. Your face pressed against his chest, and your hands awkwardly hung near your sides despite being desperate to place themselves in places theyâd beg to touch.
Loud gasps and surprised awes of the hundreds of uninvited, stunned guests echoed throughout the large room.
âHey, what the heckâ?â Rin suddenly snapped, biting down on his lip so hard that blood seeped out, the iron leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.
He didnât like you, not really, but he had finally claimed somethingâ someone that his older brother desired, and now it felt as though Sae was taking you from him.Â
It irritated him to no end, the way Saeâs hand gently patted your hair and the way you sheepishly smiled into his suit like an idiotâ who the heck did you think you were? How could you? How fucking dare you?
And more importantly, why was the Emperor fine with this? Why was he chuckling so carelessly akin to the circusâ fool? What was going on?
But your mind was already in Saturn. You were lost in the Crown Princeâs musky scent and the oh-so-delicate taps of his fingers on your head, and when you heard that voice again, you closed your eyes knowingly and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.
âA Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,â
âIn the Embrace of a Simple Face.â
âY/N.â Saeâs voice broke through your thoughts and the voices of gossip in the crowd died down instantly. He tilted your chin up gently, thumbs caressing your face sweetly before his hands found their place on your cheeks.
Your eyes darted left and right nervously, avoiding his gaze. He'd never called you by your first name before. You shook those thoughts away and met his gaze. âYesâŠ?â
âYou know,â He started, âTo break the curse, the feeling of love must be mutualâŠâ
Your cradled head nodded in his hands in embarrassment, and you felt heat creep up from your neck to your ears. âIâm aware,â
âSo?â
Your eyes widened and immediately snapped down to the floor, watching your simple heels shuffling softly. You couldnât help the soft giggle that escaped past your lips, and you only hoped that no one had heard that. You looked up at him affectionately.
âI love youâŠâ Your voice dripped like melted caramel on his tongue, so sweet.
He smiledâ a real, genuine smile that no one besides you could seeâ and leaned down, whispering an âI love you too,â before sealing his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle, and you let out a soft sigh as your fingers curled onto the rich fabric, gripping onto his attire tightly. His lips were warm as they moved against yours, unlike the cold, unmoving lips that you had claimed a while back.Â
When you finally pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, dazed with bleary eyes, little hearts seemingly etched into your pupils.
The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, and maybe a few rolls of the eyes and glares from jealous noblewomen or daughters of Lords who had hoped to have Sae all to themselves, though you barely registered anything.
Why would anything matter, when you were here, openly in his arms?
âHis Imperial Highness the Crown Prince is in love with his soon-to-be sister-in-law? This is hot news!â
âThe Second Prince didnât love her anyway.â
âHe didnât? But was it really a marriage of convenience, then?â
âNo way, he must have been in love. Whatâs there to gain from a commoner?â
âBut what could a village girl like her possibly offer the Crown Prince?â
The Emperor suddenly rose from his golden throne and stepped down the carpeted stairs, standing in the center. He cleared his throat and raised his scepter high in the air.
âI, the Emperor of the Royal Empire of Aquaria, officially dissolve the engagement between Y/N and the Second Prince, and announce the engagement between her and the Crown Prince!â
Rinâs eyes twitched. His fists clenched tighter by his sides, knuckles white and nails digging deep into his palms. He felt humiliated in front of so many people, but it is said that what goes around comes around.Â
âHuh? But Father, she'sââ Rin began, but the Emperor turned his head and shot him a threatening glare.Â
âEmperorâs order.â With a voice that sharp, there was no possible room for argument.
You also stood frozen, mouth hanging open in disbelief as you blinked at the Emperor in the distance. But Saeâs fingers tipped your chin back up and his lips latched onto yours in a bold, open-mouthed kiss.
âLook at me,â he murmured as he pulled back slightly to look at you, his breath warm against your skin.
Your breath hitched, your gaze locking onto his. âYour Highness⊠I canât believe this is happening,â You whisper-yelled in excitement, your hands waving around uncertainly.
He gently poked your cheeks. âYouâll take my last name since you donât have one.â
You pinched yourself to check if this was all just a dream. If it was, you didnât want to wake up. But it was all too real. The Crown Prince was now your fiancĂ©. You were going to be the Crown Princess, and eventually, the Empress. And you were going to take his last name because commoners do not have the privilege of family names.
And despite everything, you strangely felt no deep remorse. You had slightly opened up to and grown fond of Rin in the past few weeksâ he had those moments, but with you in his brotherâs arms right now, you felt something different. You felt bad, but at the same time you didnât. It wasnât guilt. It was more complicated, but in the end, you didnât dwell on it. You didnât need to.
Rin stood in his spot motionless like a fallen angelâs statue, face hidden by a brush of his dark bangs. His eyes were fixed on the floor and his hands were clutching onto his pants like if he removed them hell would break loose.
His plan had backfired on him. Initially, he had chosen you, a commoner, as his fiancĂ©e to gain favour with the people, to appeal to the majority of Aquariaâs population, who were commoners themselves. It seemed like a strategic move at the time. His father, the Emperor, was known for his peculiar love for equality and would occasionally volunteer in villages, much to his dismay. Rin had believed marrying you would show his alignment with his fatherâs baffling⊠values, and would increase his chances of becoming the next ruler.
But no. His darn prodigy of a brother had bested him once again. Sae was better at everything: swordplay, horse riding, diplomacy, even winning noblesâ hearts. And now, his brother had not only fallen in love with his fiancĂ©e, a dumb commoner from the slums that he had chosen to boost his image, but also managed to make her fall heads over heels for him as well.
If that hadnât infuriated him enough, he despised how his father wore that sickeningly proud smile on his face as he clapped his hands together, and how the couples were cheering and twirling like morons on the floor. While he stood stiff and awkward in the corner, insides seething in mixed emotions, hearing your stupid giggles and his brotherâs irritatingly sweet reassurances of a better life with him. Sae had taken everything away from him, and it felt like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
But Rin hated his older brother, and he hated you too.
So on the night of your wedding, the chambermaid in your room let out a blood-curdling shriek, her face as pale as the moonlight that shone through the window.Â
Cruel streaks of mulberry and plum bruises painted the delicate canvas of your neck. The once-pure white of your nightgown now blemished with spreading stains of deep cherryrose dye called blood, seeping through the fabric and into the silken sheets beneath.Â
A severed porcelain horseâs head lay propped beside the body with vacant eyes, and scattered across the carpet were shattered remnants of a pearl necklace.
âBut Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,â
A dagger, its handle carved from true blue sapphire, was loosely wrapped between cold, limp fingers of a lifeless corpse sprawled across a river of red.
âFor This, Will Lead to Oneâs Gentle Doom.â
© 2024 bluelockmaniac â do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
#ౚৠâ vivi writes.#i just realized the love development is so bad#i'm gonna cry#but i'm too lazy to change it sorry#bllk#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae x you#itoshi sae x y/n#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x y/n#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#bllk x y/n#bllk x you#whoops forgot to add the tragedy & angst tag
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The Ascendant Takes a Bride
an ascended astarion x fem!reader oneshot / nsfw / ~4.4k words
Summary: Just as you and your family are about to fall into ruin, you agree to marry the mysterious Astarion AncunĂn in exchange for his promise to pay off all your debts. Attractive and charming though he is, you cannot help but to feel nervous about your arrangement. Some say he is a vampire. You have seen evidence that both supports and counters that claim. You are not sure what to believe. Finally you find yourself alone with him on your wedding nightâand Astarion has some unexpected surprises in store for you.
CW/Tags: breeding kink, wedding night, loss of virginity, vampire bites/blood drinking, piv sex, fingering, post-game
Read on AO3
Or read below...
Your husband lifts you across the threshold, tearing you from the comfortable life you knew and thrusting you into a fate unknown, a fate you hope will be kind but fear will be grim.
You did what you had to do. Your family would either flourish or it would fall, and you knew your willingness to marry Astarion AncunĂn would make all the difference. Why accept utter ruination when you could instead ensure the prosperity of everyone you love?
Ill fortune plagued your clan for decadesâdwindling wealth, diminishing influence, a decaying estateâthere was almost nothing left. Poverty was no longer a distant nightmare but an imminent reality. Your parents prayed you might escape its chokehold with a prudent match, but without a single gold coin for your dowry, your prospects for marriage were dire.
When almost all hope was lost the unlikely offer cameâthe affluent and prestigious owner of the castle on the hill would be willing to pay off all debts and restore your household to its former gloryâif only you would agree to become his bride.
The proposal shocked you. You had been introduced to the enigmatic pale elf, but he was far from a man you knew well. Your acquaintanceship amounted to no more than a few polite but empty conversations and the occasional twirl about a dance floor. Then again you did notice how his gaze tended to follow you about the room, and you could never help but to regard him with an equally curious eye.
You were both attracted to and intimidated by him. The gods themselves could not have crafted a more beautiful man, and yet⊠something about him unsettled you. His grip a little too tight, his smile not quite sincere. He gave you the distinct impression of a scoundrel only pretending to be a gentleman.
And you had heard whisperings about him. They say he is a vampire. A devious, ruthless, heartless man who subsists on the blood of his enemies.
Still you were intrigued. You spent more time than you care to admit constructing and revising his biography in your mind, attempting to, but never succeeding in unravelling all his mysteries. The red irises and the sharp canines certainly supported the local gossip. Yet youâd seen him in broad daylight. Youâd seen him eat real food. Youâd felt the heat of his skin every time youâd danced together.
Surely the rumours could not be true.
You had a choice to make. Suddenly you possessed the power to save your whole family. Everythingâeveryoneâdepended on you and you alone.
So of course you said yes.
Determined as you were, you could never fully exorcise your doubts. Instead you chose to ignore them, to focus on all the good that could come from this arrangement. Your troubles would be over. Your family would live well. You would want for nothing.
Not to mention it was surprisingly easy to picture yourself in his bed.
But those doubts you buried did not lie dormant. Oh, no. They crept and crawled beneath your skin, festering and mutating into a dread that now threatens to consume you whole.
You cannot help but wonder: are you a saviour or a sacrificial lamb?
Either way it is far too late for second thoughts. Today you vowed yourself to Astarion. You promised him your body, your heart, your soul.
You are his wife.
Every part of you tingles with nervous energyâthe expected wedding night jitters greatly exacerbated by the misgivings you feel concerning your new husbandâand yet you cannot deny the thrill underlying it all.
The way he kissed you at the altar was downright sinful. The way he whispered his desire in your ear made you shiver. The way he held your hips tight against his as you danced left you weak in the knees.
He frightens you, and excites you, andâgods help youâyou want him to fuck you.
You thought he might throw you on the bed and make you well and truly his the very second you were alone together. Instead he sets you down with care, ensuring you find your footing despite the bulk of your billowing skirts.
You manage a brief survey of the roomâa canopy bed draped in scarlet silk, a plush loveseat in front of the fireplace, high-vaulted windows welcoming in the starlightâand as excessive as it all is in its extravagance, you find it cozy. Romantic, even. A place that might yet become your personal paradise.
Or your gilded cage. You shudder.
Your gaze falls upon the object nearest you: an ornate full-length mirror. You almost fail to recognize the woman you see staring back at you. You are the very picture of fairytale whimsy in your intricate ivory lace and your crown of white roses. You smile. To hells with your unwelcome anxiety. This is your wedding night, and you will enjoy every minute of it.
Or at least you will try.
Astarionâs reflection closes in behind yours, and you find yourself rather relieved to see that he has one. Another strike against the rumours.
You admire him in the looking glass. High cheekbones, enticing lips, bewitching eyes. Even his so-called flaws, all his wrinkles and his laugh lines, suit him to perfection.
And he admires you right backâmore shamelessly than you do himâhungry eyes mentally peeling off your dress as they rake you over.
âMy beautiful bride.â You melt under his simple yet sultry praise, your imagination running wild with fantasies of what bliss the coming hours might bring. You know little of carnal pleasure but your own touch. By the end of this night you are sure to know much, much more.
His hands sweep across your shoulders, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your little capped sleeves. In the mirror you catch a flash of that devious smirk, the one that hints at the rogue you think he truly is.
âAlmost a shame that I have to undress you.â
Your mouth runs dry, any words you might have said forever lost in the silence.
You do want this. You want to make love to your husband. You want to learn to love him in every sense of the word.
You want to trust him.
But can you?
âMay I?â he asks, one hand travelling down to the laces at your back, the other hand enclosing yours in his. Feigning chivalry all while his firm grip screams out his barely suppressed urge to tear your gown from your flesh and pin you hard against the wall.
This is it. There is no going back now. You passed the point of no return hours before, your fate sealed with two little words: âI do.â
He wants you.
And so you will let him have you.
âYes.â
With that, his fingers thread through your laces, pulling them loose with alarmingly efficient speed. Quite the expert he must be. You have, after all, heard talk of his rakish ways. Those rumours are much easier for you to believe.
You feel your bodice loosening, though your struggle to breathe persists, the weight of this moment somehow heavier than the mass of your dress. You gather your courage to do your part, tugging off your sleeves and letting the fabric fall away from your skin, pushing what remains down over your hips. Astarion takes your hand as you step out and away from your unwieldy gown, kicking it unceremoniously into a corner. The second it is out of the way, he pulls you back in front of the mirror with a force that makes you gasp.
âLook at you,â he says, and you glance at your reflection. You are bare before him save for what hides beneath your lacy smallclothes. âYou are exquisite, darling.â
His fingers dig into your skin, seeking all your soft and sensitive places, your body beautifully pliable under his exploratory touch. He gives ample attention to the delicate curve from your waist to your hips, and to the lovely heft of your breasts, squeezing and kneading and molding you to his liking. You watch, mesmerized, the self-consciousness that might have held you back fading away. His thumbs repeatedly ghost across your nipples, soft lips nuzzling your neck as he grows hard against your backsideâand, gods, your cunt aches for him. Not even the graze of his sharp teeth, suspect as it is, could dissuade you now.
Lust obliterates what was left of your modesty as sweet sounds spill forth from your parted lips. Already you are falling apart in his arms and he has not yet once stroked you between your legs. âPleaseâŠâ you hear yourself beg.
He laughs. Itâs a hearty, almost mocking sound, but you are too far gone to mind. âYou will have to be more specific, Iâm afraid.â As if he could not guess. Both of you know exactly what you want. âUse your words, pet.â
âPlease touch me.â
Insufficient.
âMake love to me.â
Much better.
And there is one other little thing you should tell him.
âLike no one before you ever has.â
There it is, that devilish, devastatingly sexy grin. He is pleased. Maybe a little too pleased. You again note the pointed tips of his canines, and you expect, one way or another, you will soon be devoured.
âOh, my sweet little virgin,â he purrs, hands slipping off your smallclothes, a finger dipping inside your slick heat. Hells. A relief sublime and yet nowhere near enough. âYou have been so, so patient for me, havenât you?â Patient is the last thing you feel right now as you arch into his touch, desperate for more friction, more pleasure, more Astarion. âRest assured, my little love. I will reward you well. Grant you your every desire. Of course, I expect all I want in return.â
âAnything,â you cry, and you mean it. You waste no time contemplating the meaning of his words, nor your own. You just want to be fucked.
âAnything?â You nod and he smirks, increasing the pressure and pace as he inserts a second finger, holding you steady as you squirm. âSuch a good girl for me, arenât you? All these years you saved yourself for my bed, and you didnât even know it, did you?â
Should you be answering with a nod or a shake of the head now? You are no longer sure, your mind incapable of thought beyond imagining how glorious your orgasm will feel when he grants it to you. You eventually decide upon nodding, and you hear him chuckle.
âAdorable. The way you look, the way you soundââ He nibbles at your neck, then breathes into your ear. âAnd I bet you taste just as sweet.â
Your blood chills at the thought of him tasting it. A shiver runs down your spine.
No⊠Surely he speaks of something pleasurable. Something you have heard other young women gush and giggle about. Something you would like to experience for yourself. You let passion burn your needless worry away, writhing about as you refocus on release, your eyelids fluttering closed.
The next thing you know his hand is clutching your neck. âWatch.â You immediately obey his growled command, your eyes locking upon your own reflection, all flushed and disheveled. Gods, you look positively ravaged and you have yet to even take his cock. You glimpse his smile, a sure sign he is thoroughly enjoying the utter mess he is making of you.
âThis pretty body of yours was meant to be mine, wasnât it, pet?â
This time you know just what your answer should be. You nod furiously and he moves deliciously faster. It wonât be long now.
âOh, and I assure you I will put it to excellent use.â
You nod again. You are certain he will. You keen as his fingers curl into you.
He grins. He knows he has you now.
âMy, what an eager thing. You will be the perfect little vessel for me, wonât you?â
You agree. You would give him anything. As long as he takes care of you, too.
And he will take care of you, wonât he?
âA vessel to take my pleasure in whenever, wherever, however I want?â
You will. Gods, you will. You moan out your assent and punctuate it with his name. You will spend your life parting your mouth, spreading your legs, offering your body to fill and to fuck as he pleases. As long as he makes you come, too.
And he is about to make youâŠ
âAnd to carry my children?â
You surrender to ecstasy as it wracks you senseless, clenching violently around his fingers and singing out your instinctive answer with ardour. âYes!â
Only as the pleasure subsides do you begin to think things through.
What did he just say? What did you just say?
You knew this topic would come up eventually. It is an inescapable expectation among the nobilityâsometimes unspoken, sometimes spoken very loudlyâbut always present either way. And yet the last thing you expected was for Astarion to speak of children right on the cusp of your consummation. You thought you would at least first get to know each other as lovers and partners before ever considering becoming parents.
Your state of shock does not discourage him. Instead he smiles wickedly as he gives your hardened nipple a pinch, sending another jolt of desire straight to your cunt. He begins rubbing your clit again, making you mewl, only to leave you whining when he withdraws. He leaves a trail of your own slick along your skin as his hand slides up to rest at your lower abdomen.
âOh, my sweet love. I can already imagine how gorgeous you will look swollen with my child. You do want to give me a child, donât you?â
You stare in silence though you have to admit it is not an unwelcome idea.
âYou will let me come inside you, wonât you?â
Gods. Now that is an idea you welcome gladly. Something innate, something deeply ingrained within your core cries out your need. You crave it, crave to let him spill his seed inside you. You wriggle about in his arms as you picture it.
Motherhood just might suit you.
Astarion spins you around and you gaze into those stunningly hypnotic eyes. You press a hand to his chest and discover that his heart beats just like yours, its steady, strong tempo dismantling your lingering doubt. A mortal. Like you.Â
âI can tell you want this, darling,â he says. Perhaps you do. âYour heart races at the thought. Give yourself to destiny. Give yourself to me.â
Only one answer comes to your mind.
âYes.â
He captures your lips in a kiss that ignites your lust and kindles your affection. His arms feel like home. Like you have always belonged to him and you always will.
You need him now.
You only manage to undo a single button of his overcoat before he lifts you off the floor and lays you atop the silk and softness of his bed. Your bed, you realize. You imagine spending many endless nights together here in a tangle of limbs.
He stands there stripping himself as you lie and watch with rapt attention, and yet you hardly know where to lookâhis beautiful eyes bore into you with intense hunger, his deft hands work effortlessly through his every layer, his newly bared skin tempts and tantalizes youâevery part of him competes for your admiration. When he finally pulls off his smallclothes your eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, thick and flaunting his desire. On instinct you part your legs.
The sight of you splayed in invitation lures Astarion onto the bed and over you, arms and legs caging you in, lips colliding with yours, cock ready at your entrance. You roll up your hips to tease him, your lack of patience testing what little remains of his.
Your little nudge is all it takes to make the last of it crumble and he crashes into you.
You wince at the initial tinge of pain. It passes in seconds, dulled by your arousal, and you are thankful for the mercy. You succumb to the pleasure of him stretching and sinking into you, your body eager to accept the whole of him as he slides deeper inside.
âEasy, darling. I promise a little pain is worth all the pleasure.â He gives you the soothing coos and slow movements of a gentle and cautious loverâa part he plays well, you would think, if not for the tension you detect coiled in his muscles. You recognize he is a man struggling to hold back, and that epiphany has your cunt clenching around him.
Emboldened by your obvious want, he starts to fuck into you in earnest, pushing in and pulling back in a rhythm you already know will be your new addiction. At first you try to match every intoxicating motion, pushing your hips upwards to meet him thrust for thrust, but instead you find yourself squirming wildly, only able to pet him as he works. You relish the sound of his grunts and groans, how they signal his enjoyment of you, though you know you are drowning them out with your wanton moans. He does look far too in command of himself for your liking, and in your mind you set yourself a goal: you will learn how to make him relinquish that tight control.
Of course, if Astarion wants to focus on your pleasureâwell, you certainly will not complain about that. If nothing else, your husband is proving to be a generous lover.
You reach up for a kiss, eliciting from him a growl that rumbles down your throat as you taste his tongue. Never have you felt this close to another person, and you long to get even closer. You touch his face, his chest, his shoulders, wanting to explore every inch of his skin as you take every inch of his cock. When you throw your arms around his back, the scars your fingertips find there briefly distract you, but you quickly decide that is a story for another time.
Experimenting a little, you pull your legs back and angle your hips, the slight adjustment to your position an even better fit than you thought possible. You squeal when he presses into a delightfully sensitive spotâand so he does it again, and again, and again, repeatedly, rigorously, relentlessly. You concentrate hard on your impending climax, your mind conjuring up an image of him filling you to the brim with come night after night.
âYou are mine. Mine to treasure. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed.â
That delicious thought sends your walls spasming, your mind shattering, your entire body pulsing with incomprehensible bliss. His name bursts from your lips as you ride out the sensation, and it pleases you to know you will be calling it out the rest of your life. You have never felt better.
Still you wanted him to join you in your freefall over the edge and you cannot help the twinge of disappointment you feel when you realize he did not finish with you.
Not that you mind continuing to indulge in your favourite new activity.
He stills a moment and you stare up at him, confused, concerned, even. âI would like to try⊠a little something else. Take a little more from you. That is if my dearest little love would be so good as to oblige me.â You cannot imagine what he means. You must look utterly baffled because he then chuckles and asks, âDo you trust me?â
âI would trust you with anything.â The words slip out automatically and yet they come as a surprise to you. He is your husband, yes. But you barely know him. You thought you were done questioning this, but a shadow of doubt creeps back in. Something in his tone you do not like. Honey laced with poison.
Is one night of passionate sex really enough to found your trust on?
You decide it is a good start at least, and brush off the invasive thought.
He grins and turns you around, his hands all over you again, his lips planting kisses along your back, your shoulders, your neck. You let out a contented sigh.
A sharp, searing pain rips through you. You grimace. In your hysteria you imagine daggers embedded in your neck. And then it hits you.
Fangs.
You married a vampire. You let him fuck you. You let him bite you.
The first shock subsides, leaving a throbbing numbness in its wake, blood rushing out of your veins and into his greedy mouth. You should be screaming in horror, planning your escape, forsaking your vows in hopes of a return to a normal life. Instead you lean back, pliant and willing, nestling yourself against him as he holds you in his fierce embrace.
You have never known such peril and yet in the cradle of his arms you feel⊠safe.Â
You should not feel safe.
âSweet hells,â he rasps when he stops, lapping at your wound one last time. âI have not tasted something so delectable in decades.â
This is madness. And yet a surge of pride swells in your heart at his praise. You do feel a little dizzy, a little weakâbut still very much alive.
He pushes you to your knees and plunges back into you, a hand pressing you down as he fucks you into the mattress. You steal a little glance at him over your shoulder, meeting his eyes for only a secondâbut you will never forget their eerie, unnatural glow. You bury your face in your pillow and shut your eyes. Perhaps it is better that you donât look. That you donât know.
So this is Astarion out of control.
You tremble in ecstasy and in fear, still shaken by the frightful revelation, and yet still yearning to merge and meld with him endlessly. Your body begs you to bend to his will, an echo of his voice reverberating in your mind. Succumb. Surrender. Submit. So you do. You could not deny him now even if you wanted to.
You let yourself moan with abandon as his length slams in and out of you. You revel in the divine new depth this position allows him to explore and the feral sounds he makes as he drives into you faster. Bucking against him, you find yourself shaking as you reach the precipice of your pleasure.
With every pump, each more erratic than the one before, you can sense Astarion losing more and more of himself in his frantic search for euphoria. When at last he finds it, cock twitching and pulsing against your walls as he spends himself inside you, you break apart again with a delighted cry. Your final thought as he fully empties into you is a question of how long it will be before you begin to grow round with his child.
When it is done, you lie panting beneath him, logic and reason beginning to clear your clouded mind. You become all too aware of his seed seeping out of you, and the dull pangs of pain in your punctured neck. How can you just accept all of this?
Astarion settles in beside you, and taking a tentative turn, you face him, eyes catching sight of the red trail trickling down from the corner of his mouth. Blood. Your blood. He casually wipes it away as if it were no more unusual than a little spilled wine. You shiver.
You know your shock must be written all over your face. âCome,â he says, and you listen, shifting your body closer to his and giving into his gentle caresses. When he speaks again, his expression is soft, his voice smooth. You feel a touch more at ease.
âYou were so, so brave for me tonight. You need not fear what I am, love. BesidesâI need you mortal. Fertile.â
A deluge of questions and concerns flood your mind, and yet that last word sends a thrill through you that shakes you to your core, pushing your worries away. Already you want more of Astarionâyou want him to cherish you, to worship your being, to bring you heaven again and again. You snuggle up against him, communicating your desire with a burning kiss.Â
You will ask for answers someday.
But not tonight.
+++
Astarion likes to watch you.
Never has he seen a lovelier creature. You sit smiling down at the sweet baby bundled in your arms, the swell of a second child already beginning to show even through the layers of your dress. You have done your duty so beautifully well. Like he always knew you would.
He decided he would have you the moment he saw you. So like a love he lost ages ago and yet her superior in every way. The defiance he recalled and resented had long been bred out of your line, replaced with a demurity and a domesticity that made you ideally suited to your purpose. You could not be any more perfect for him.
And so he made it his mission to make you his. No doubt he could simply charm you into bed, but it was not enough to make you want him. He had to make you need him. The fools in your family had already made much progress in that regard without his interference, but the pull of a string here and there ensured your desperation.
And of course he made every claim on you he could. He wedded you. He was the first and the only to bed you. And he impregnated you so very easily. It was like you were made to be bred. What better way to declare to the world that you are his and his alone?
Your beautiful brood of children will strengthen his reign, infiltrate and influence every powerful organization, spread the AncunĂn name throughout the city and the whole world. And the nobility does like a lord to have his heirsâeven if an immortal will never need a replacement.
He watches as you look up. You notice him and give him that pretty smile.
You have given him so much. Even love. In him you have awakened an affection he thought he might never feel again. That he did not even know he needed.
You complete him.
He smiles back at you.
There is only one claim left on you to make, one that will come years from now, when the time of child-bearing is behind you.
To make you his bride for all eternity.
Thank you for reading!
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#astarion smut#ascended astarion#astarion x reader#astarion fic#astarion x female reader#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#astarion#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#bg3 fic#bg3 smut#astarion bg3#bg3
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Follower form Leshy
Got around to designing a follower form for Leshy/aka Brushstar (now Brushthorn since the bishops lose their leader positions and names when they join Lambstarâs clan) today, since the golden markings on the pelts of the bishops are basically a parallel to their bishop robes in the actual game, I figured theyâd lose those special markings (like how they lose their robes in favor of the cult garb) when they become followers/members of the clan đ
#cult of the lamb#COTL#cult of the lamb art#cotl leshy#warrior cat art#warrior cats au#warrior cats#clan of the lamb#clan of the lamb au#cotl spoilers
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â ENDLESS WINTER. a Christopher Bahng fiction
Christopher Bahng x f. reader
TROPE. Beast! au, Mage! au, enemies to lovers (she wants to kill him), marriage au, angst
WARNINGS. violence, kidnapping, mention of a past war, descriptions of murder, reader is injured, hyunjin is a bit of a pain, hinted minsung (hehe), blood, kissing (dubcon), cursing
WORD COUNT. 12k words
AUG'S NOTES. if thereâs ever been a more spontaneous fic in history it would be this⊠every sentence is write is purely self indulgentâŠ. (genuinely a written version of the stories i make in my head while laying in bed)
SYNOPSIS. As heiress of the Magus, otherwise, Mage Clan, you find your position ripped from your fingertips when the Beast Clan conducts a raid. Left the only survivor, you make it your priory to stay alive in a ravaged Kingdom. That is, before youâre captured.
alternatively :
Starvation becomes the least of your problems when you meet King Bahng.
Hiding in the kitchenâs cupboard was definitely not your intention.
Neither was the Kingdom getting raided by the Beast Clan or being the (presumably) lone survivor in the castle, but fate would have its way, whether you liked it or not â this one just a bit more severe than usual.
Your mother once told you of the Beast Clan, of their ferocity and inability to handle things diplomatically. In her opinion, Beast were barely able to be considered Human.
Well, these words came after the Mage-Beast War; a grueling, disgustingly brutal dispute that caused what was referred to as the âEndless Winterâ, a curse put upon the nation by a Magus overseer bidding every day of every year with, well, âendless winterâ.
She told you how the ground used to be a wondrous green. Soft beneath your fingertips like feathers. Now, blankets of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, killing off any remaining expanse of foliage.
Although years had passed since then, your Kingdom was still recovering, still navigating importing routes in order to supply necessary goods.
Yet, everything was rapidly adapting, whether that was the snow-shoe rabbits roaming your vast tundra or the unexpected growth of fur on the bottom of the horseâs hooves.
Growing, learning.
Magus, though a lineage of magic practitioners, had begun to dull over the centuries. There was no need to learn with peace eminent, and the more aged those wielding supernatural abilities became, the less said abilities progressed into your generations.
However, Magus is the hearth of your Kingdom, and for as long as you live, the title shall reign supreme.
A title that, used by enemies and allies alike, had modernized from its ancient form Magus, to Mage.
Dinner held in the customary hall began that night, seat upon seat homing each member of the family adorned in their extravagant clothing.
Your father occupied the upmost chair, his plate stacked full of greasy lamb and pork bones. You, on the other hand, had had your fill chatting the cookâs ear off, slipping sweet potato wedges here and there as you talked.
Ms. Maewether was her name, a sad soul who carried her love in her cherished dishes. A love reserved for her late husband, a Beast himself, who unfortunately passed in The War.
Back then you asked her questions to the moon, about what they looked like specifically â if they really had eight inch claws like all the other children gossiped, if they could feel.
The last one was important, because everything Ms. Maewether told you you believed without a doubt, and the number one thing she pressed was that Beasts can feel, so very deeply. Just like humans.
The War changed that, and tension rose tenfold, especially as each Kingdom recovered from their countless casualties.
Luckily, your life had been peaceful, having been born young enough you could hardly remember.
Had been peaceful.
A scream from outside redirects the tableâs conversation, relatives and siblings alike turning their head to gaze out the window.
Your blood runs cold.
Beasts, left and right, are slaughtering. Their clothing stained in blood that certainly isnât their own, blades in clutch.
Immediately, panic ensues. People are trampling over each other to get out, disregarding every instinct but to stay alive. Itâs chaos.
Dodging flailing bodies, you anchor yourself in a secluded cupboard below the countertops, shrinking as close to the wall as possible.
A few moments after everyone evacuates the Dining Hall do you hear cries. Yelling, gargled sounds. You cringe back imagining, stifling your breathing as much as possible.
Suddenly, a thought comes to mind, a thought that might just be responsible for saving your life.
Smell.
Ms. Maewether warned you a Beastâs smell is like no other, like a dogs. Twenty times as heightened as a persons.
So slowly, silently, you fish your hand into the small bit of darkness in front of you, locating a small bottle of cooking grease you wince upon finding â forcing the awful smelling concoction over your body, masking your scent.
Right after sitting down the container does the door creak open, heavy footsteps belonging to none other than a Beast. You can hear it in their sniffing, the clicking of their claws. Chills scatter your arms.
Another enters as the second door creaks, muttering something incomprehensible to its companion. At this point youâre pressed to the other side of the cupboard, both hands covering your mouth.
Your heart thunders in your chest, beating unbearably loud the longer you huddle.
Walking past where you lie, a Beast stops, body ducking down close enough you can hear its labored panting. You wait, waiting for the door to be flung open and for your death to await.
It doesnât. And you thank whomever above for the echo of its presence fading away into the distance, barely relaxing against the highly uncomfortable hiding spot.
Instead, a blood curdling screech rips through the atmosphere, comparably close to where you hide. Abruptly, it stops, the thump of a body against the floor making you staunch the nausea building like bile in your throat.
It takes three days for you to finally peer out of the cupboard, the entirety of the Kingdom completely void of a soul.
Taking your first few steps around do you notice a woman, obviously slain by the puddle of blood surrounding her and the putrid stench. Her mouth hangs openâhorror-stricken, frozen in place. You vomit in the sink.
For about a week do you roam the murder-house of a castle, finding purchase in a non-blood-bathed room and the many, thought to be endless amount of food.
You wonât leave, simple.
As long as the Beast Clan believes theyâve killed everyone, youâre safe.
That reminder was assuring, until your food supply dropped exponentially and a new problem situated itself on your platter.
Worst case scenario you die of starvation, the likelihood high if you stay here. Solution? Hunting.
Granted, youâre not the most skillful hunter, but youâre also not horrendous with a bow. Except, itâs not your aiming abilities you stress, itâs the chance someone sees you, the enemy sees you.
Four weeks in and youâre left with no other choice than to bundle yourself in layers upon layers of clothing and heed the feeble weaponry available.
Blizzard frost permeates your vision, wobbling steps making your hunger evident the more you roam. A horse wouldâve been effortlessly useful, but selling yourself into that fantasy had been futile upon realizing they either took or killed all escapades.
A hare catches your eye, pale fur barely divisible from the terrain below. Carefully, you crouch down, elbow stretching the arrow back as far as possible whilst maintaining a solid grip. Steady. Steady.
Shoot!
The arrow flies, puncturing the animal in its chest enough to where it thankfully doesnât suffer, flopping over rather pathetically instead.
However, your success is short-lived.
Stalking forward to snatch the creature quickly, a shadow looming overhead halts your footsteps. Behind you.
Before you can think to run, you wind back, meager arrow in hand providing little defense against the attacker.
First thing you take in is how huge they are. At least six feet tall if not taller, brilliantly ruby eyes revealing its true identity.
Beast.
With ease the man has your efforts pinned, curiousity overflowing as the animal looks at you. Yet, he doesnât look like an animal, and apart from those eyes of his, no other factors wouldâve revealed him to you but that.
This Beast has a fox-like face. A younger stature and smaller, slanted features.
âHyung, what is this?â He asks, lifting your petrified frame like you were the rabbit youâd killed earlier.
His older counterpart glances over, and any hope of getting released plummets upon those wild crimson hues focusing in on youâknowledgeable as to what you were.
The cooking grease had long worn off, and your identity was likely as apparent as can be.
Mage.
Older Beast easily roaming through the snow, his fingers tangle into your hair, drawing out a cry when he jerks his hand up, forcing your gaze to meet his through the searing sting of your scalp. The younger grimaces.
His long, nearly white hair is tied into a ponytail, sharp cheekbones and calculating stare beyond intimidating. Beneath his left eye you note a small, distinct mole.
âOne remained, huh.â
Itâs a fever dream walking into the Kingdom that, compared to yours, looks positively flourishing with life. Beasts of all kinds roam about, carrying on with their daily lives, oblivious to the winds of death theyâve swept your way.
Everything in your body feels as if itâs shutting down, unable to feel the sensation of your legs as you trudge forward, the younger, much kinder Beast ensuring you kept pace.
Freezing temperatures carry on the longer snow falls, gluing strands of hair to your forehead, blanketing your lashes while your nose runs incessantly.
In front of you now lies the castle, far grander than you couldâve ever imagined. Twin spires peek above the low-hanging clouds, stone columns towering above.
From your distance you spot two knights positioned on either side of the entryway, large armored helmets with hawk feathers adorning the ridges.
One knight stops your ascent, the light-haired man rolling his eyes profusely.
âMinho, this is important.â
âImportant enough youâre bringing a Mage into the Kingdom?â
His voice smooth as honey, he sports a dominant tone when speaking. Stare observant, he watches the other Beastâs expressions with uncanny precision.
âBecause if you havenât noticed Hyunjin,â He leans forward a bit, whispering. âYou have the entire Kingdomâs attention.â
At this, either of the Beasts who escorted you turn around, and upon doing so are met with hundreds, if not thousands of eyes boring into their soul. Whether itâs younger Beasts or aged soldiers, those heinous vermillion orbs seem to see through you.
You gulp.
âCâmon,â Hyunjin harshly beckons, nudging you forward through the gates with the younger quick on his tail.
Every color in the Palace is monochromatically grey, although strikes of royal blue reside in large drapes hung from perched balconies.
Similar guards to those outside sift throughout the room, familiar hawk feathers litter everywhere in sight, paving paths to the core of the room where a throne sits.
Pointed edges flank either side of the massive chair, the ocean blue rug underneath reflecting up and out of the ceiling â a glass design stretching wide across the throne room, emphasizing the dusky weather outside.
According to the younger Beast whose title you learned as Jeongin, the King was currently participating in a hunt with Changbin (the lead hunter of the Palace), so after hasty appreciation of the sheer volume of this breathtaking castle, youâre forced toward the dungeons.
Jeongin wears a pitying frown, promising to return with some food to your chambers in the case the King doesnât arrive for a while.
At least someone in this Kingdom doesnât insist youâre beheaded.
âFinally, somebody else is here.â
A voice erupting from the darkening depths to your right make you jump, chained wrists clanging abruptly. Through minimal lighting of the burning lamps hastened upon the walls, you make out the silhouette of a man, face bunching in a sweet manner when he smiles.
Unusually, his hands arenât chained.
âWhatâre you in here for?â You begin, gaze narrowed in confusion. The chubby-cheeked stranger smiles haphazardly.
âI would ask you the same thing. Iâm the Kingâs Advisor, he just gets tired of me and puts me in here sometimes,â Your chamber-mate sighs, and once you take in what he professed, the urge to laugh becomes too strong to control.
Laughing for the first time in quite a while is sort of relieving, especially when this new acquaintance of yours begins whining his dismay, aimlessly trying to hush your giggles.
Red eyes. You can see them blinking up at you, gleaming when he grins his pointed teeth.
Quickly pausing, you wait in horror as he gradually sniffs in.
Your stomach sinks.
âWait⊠Youâre a Magââ
His phrase is cut off by a loud ringing noise, a familiar echo of keys tunneling down the dungeons stairwell.
Another stranger unlocks the door. Heâs burly, with curly hair in disarray. Cuffs of animal fur wraps around defined biceps, his top a tight-fitted arrangement of fur and woven leather paired with small iron spikes studding the shoulder lining.
A scar passes down the corner of his lip, long since healed but remaining faded.
âCâmere,â He ushers, voice gruff and rumbling when he unlocks your shackles, big hand pushing you forward up the stairs.
If anybody here had pure Beast in their bloodline, it would be this man. His demeanor is rough, but his touch on your back is surprisingly gentle whilst guiding you upward.
Again youâre granted with the wondrous sight of the Throne Room in all its historic glory, although your gaze directed at the floor keeps you ignorant to so many heads bowed, so many voices cast to silence upon the click of footsteps approaching.
And when you look up, you meet strikingly blue eyesâperhaps a genetic mutation of a sort.
Theyâre stunning, enrapturing almost, and you find the need to break eye contact immediate, more dire than normal while staring down at you.
Plump, full lips and perfectly sculpted facial features seem that of a Greek godâs, too ethereal to exist in your reality. A glittering, silver crown sits stark atop a black nest of hair.
Either arm rests on the sides of the throne, and you swore youâd never seen someone look so, King-like. That, and the massive cape of wolf-skin draped over his back.
A devil, dressed as an angel.
âYour Highness, this Mage was found near the L/N Kingdom by Hwang Hyunjin and Yang Jeongin while scouting the territory.â A palace-woman announces, the same guard who lingered outside, Minho, standing to your side.
Your blood boils, disregarding every ounce of amazement once inhabited.
Itâs him. The man responsible for the demise of loved ones you couldnât count on all of your fingers and toes.
Minho, as if sensing your frothing rage, mutters through his helmet a staggered warningâremaining upright and unmoving at attention.
âDo not move and do not look into his eyes unless youâre asking for death.â
Your patience dissipates, lip twitching involuntarily.
You canât remember the last time you were genuinely angry. You were happy, surrounded by people you loved.
Those people werenât here now, they were killed.
âYou murderer! Youâre aââ Your attempt at lashing out at the King stalled when Minho kicks the crevice between your knees, forcing you down on the carpet below.
âMonster! A bloodyâ fuckingâ Monster!â
Palace representatives gasp their bewilderment, some beckoning you away to the dungeons, others urging Minho to end you right here and now.
It wouldnât matter, would it?
The Kingâs raised hand stalls the accusations, his familiar clicking footsteps nearing closer till he stands before you.
Shifting down into a squat, the man tips your chin up to meet cerulean again, his head slightly tilted to the side.
âDonât get it mixed up little one,â He murmurs, the pad of his thumb controlling your movement.
âI did not kill your family. Your family killed themselves.â
Fist sharply winding around for a punch, he catches it before you can even register your predicament, iron grip strong enough you fear he might just snap your wrist in half.
âAnd I wouldnât recommend fighting back, otherwise I canât guarantee your safety.â
Concluding his threat the further he bends your wrist, you whine, face scrunching from the pain until he finally stops, amusedly surveying your expression.
Denying your own enraged shaking, you suck your teeth, focus vehemently pinned onto him.
âWhy would you care about my safety?â You snarl, trying to wriggle his hold off to no avail.
âBecause,â The King cocks his brows. âI like you.â
About to spit another word, he interrupts you, index tracing the veins of your arm.
âPlus, I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.â
You shiver.
Your second day and you feel as if youâre officially going insane.
The only person tolerable here is Jeongin, that chamber guard whose name you donât know, and Felix, the castles cook. You barely see the King, and even when heâs present heâs usually quartered in his study.
What he does there remains unknown, information learned in the mere form of startled maids leaving the room and gossip among those wandering the Kingdom.
âDo you know what he does?â
Felix looks up from the dish he was laying in front of you, wispy blond locks bouncing with the movement.
âDoes what?â He piques, ridding a stray piece of hair clinging to your sleeve.
âThe King, what does he do all day long?â
One thing about Felix you love, his honesty. Regardless of if most would tell a quick fib and flee, Felix, although occasionally working around a topic, takes the time to actually explain things to you.
Allows you to learn more of the place youâre going to have to call home.
âHm..â He pulls a chair from your right to drop into, and for a moment, you see Ms. Maewether in that smile of his. Your heart aches.
âChrisâ I mean, King Bahng is always busy. He plans trade agreements, oversees the hunts, and basically keeps this castle alive.â
Chris?
âWhoâs Chris?â
Felix nearly squeaks, burying his head in his hands. Evidently, you werenât supposed to hear that part, but an eagerness to know more about this solitary King kept your hesitance at bay.
âThatâs his name. Christopher Bahng, but youâre not allowed to call him that and not allowed to tell anyone about us having this conversa-â
âTell who?â
You quite literally almost fall backwards in your seat, failing to anticipate the pair of hands placed on Felixâs shoulders.
A pair of hands, followed by a pair of ocean blue eyes, boring right into you and the horrified boy in front of you.
King Bahng. In the flesh.
âOh.. Hey Chriâ Hello Your Highness.â
Again he corrects. These two must know each other.
âTell who, Felix?â He speaks, tone nothing short of teasingâthough the boy looks just as startled, practically sweating through his clothing.
Still adorning that flanking wolf-cape of his, his dark hair is slightly messy, expression distorted curiously.
You hate him to admit, but King Bahng is horribly attractive.
âNothing! Nothing at all, Your Highness,â Felix chirps, fixing you with a âDonât say a wordâ glare you cease to argue with.
Rising up from your seat quickly as if you had any duties in this Kingdom to tend to, you find yourself stalling.
You have so many questions. âŠAnd the overwhelming urge to slap him across the face.
Youâve received a fair warning on the latter.
âIâll be off now, Your Highness.â
The last words come out involuntary, used to referring to your own father this way. It made you sick to know you regarded his murderer the same.
And though the King didnât stand extremely tall (considering how young Beasts were already your height), his hulking stature felt as if it could swallow you whole, pointed canines flashing when he smiled, sending your head reeling.
Pleased.
King Bahng was pleased hearing something nonthreatening come out of your mouth.
Vile.
Yet, you simply curtsied and hurried off, ceasing to notice the immediate growl Felix directed in the Kingâs direction.
âGood lord, I know she smells good but youâre practically undressing her with your eyes,â The freckled boy grumbles, returned with an uninterested expression from his friend.
Before the King can head off to whatever meeting he has planned, however, he spins on his heel.
âHave you consulted Seungmin about the scent-blocking salve?â
âPossessive, are we?â
His glare shuts the cook up immediately.
âIf there is one Mage left, itâs mine. And since sheâs the survivor, sheâs mine.â
Yeah, heâs not beating the possessive allegations. But if heâs going to gain your trust, and eventually, after much thought, become mates, heâs keeping every other Beast in the Kingdom at a distance from you at all times.
âJeongin will report when itâs completed. And Chris?â
âHm?â
âDonât expect her to warm up to you.â
King Bahng hums.
âI donât.â
And with that, Felix follows your exit, leaving the King to his own devices, your nectar-sweet smell lingering in his nose.
âIf I stare at the same wall for hours and hours, shouldnât it break by now?â
âYouâre a Mage, not telekinetic,â Han replies, repetitively scanning over a piece of parchment assumed to be a guest list.
In the midst of your incessant boredom, you found yourself following the Kingâs Advisor around, peering over his shoulder at the endless list of haughty names written in languid ink strokes.Â
Amongst them, you ceased to find your fatherâs name. You knew it wouldnât be there, but somehow, you wished if you blinked enough it would magically appear.Â
King L/N, written in that same, cursive font.Â
Rounding a corner, you conclude if thereâs anyone you avoid more than King Bahng (a.k.a Chris), it was Hyunjin. That man was a serpent in a Beastâs body.
Catching sight of his dreaded ponytail, you hastily retrace your steps, hiding behind a massive doorframe while Han stares at you as if youâre a rodent scurrying at his shoes.
âHe wonât bite yâknow.â
âIf only you wouldâve been there when he first found me,â You whisper angrily, practically clawing at the wood desperately till he leaches you out.
Leaching enough, in fact, that you end up right in Hyunjinâs line of sight, who surveys you up and down with a cocked brow to the point youâre sure steam is billowing from your ears.Â
Mocking. Ruby-red, mocking eyes.
He does bite. He sinks his teeth into the flesh and tears.Â
You wonât bleed without biting back.Â
Hanâs iron grip tightens on your arm as slowly, oh so slowly, Hyunjin walks closer.Â
The strategist prowls, edging right up in your faceânoses a thread-width apart. Â
His glower sets your fury alight, lips curled in a deriding notion.
âNo need to glare, wouldnât want wrinkles ruining that face of yours.â
âNo need to get so close unless you plan to kiss me, mutt.â
Though, just as Hyunjin preapres to lunge, a big hand holds him back, animal fur cuffs indicating it isnât the King who stepped in.
The man who had fetched you from the chambers earlier divided either of you. Shorter, but evidently stronger.Â
âControl yourselves, both of you. For as long as she stays in the Kingdom, sheâs The Kingâs propertyââ
âI am no oneâs property,â You snarl, and the guard turns.
Basked in clear lighting, you can finally see him. Honing dark brown hair hanging above his eyebrows, the same scar resides by his mouth, though, his eyes are much kinder than you expected.
Taking a slow inhale, he reads your conflicted expression like an ornate mirror.
âOne mage in the Kingdom of Beasts? Sorry to break it to you, but yes, you are his property. So as long as sheâs here, nobody lays a finger on her, understood?â
Glancing to each person, either of them ease their apprehension, the bewildered Jisung next to you stifling a breath, Hyunjin rolling his eyes with a loud huff.
Baiting seconds pass, and in that period of time do you realize you never caught his name. Specifically, the guardâs name.
âExcuse m-â
âSeo Changbin,â Han interjects. âHis name is Seo Changbin.â
Ah. Right.
Now on the roster of least-likely to kill you, Jeongin, Changbin, Felix, and Han.
Filled with a need to evade, you stand merely as a spectator as each horridly red hue snaps to stare at you, your heart spiking an alarming rate.Â
The Kingâs Advisorâs fingers tighten to the point youâre sure heâs blocking blood flow. Â
âYou need to leave. Jisung, get in contact with Seungmin and see when the salve is done,â Changbin instructs, already shoving Hyunjin away.
Salve. What salve?
Failing to give you any explanation, youâre dragged off, boisterously complaining before the highly annoyed man abruptly pauses, finger nudging your forehead irritably. Â
âYou smell.â
Then he leaves, and youâre left to wonder if youâre still in primary school or the Kingdom of Beasts.
You smell? Whatâs that supposed to mean?
First thing in the morning, youâre torn from your slumber with a blazing sun scorching your eyes.
Your canopy beds silken drapes doing little to block the attack, you whine to an apologetic Jisung who merely sighs in return.
âSorry sleeping beauty, but we have an appointment to attend this morning. Can you handle getting dressed on your own?â
You roll your eyes, groggily pulling yourself upright. âI was an heiress, not helpless.âÂ
To which he cracks a miniature grin and slips out the door, allowing you to hurriedly strip off your chemise and messily arrange your stays and petticoats.
Out of all things youâd been deprived of, a part of the L/N Clan unable to be divided was your garments. Â
Somewhere, in the midst of fabric and citrus scented soap, you swear you can still smell bits and pieces of home.
What this appointment entailed you failed to ask, gingerly hustled down winding hallways barely illuminated with sunlight.Â
The Kings Advisor expertly winds further and further down, georgian architecture littered in symmetrical golden portraits and decorum, casement glass windows twinkling as you walked past.Â
Having reached a dead end, youâre pleasantly surprised to watch Han jar a brass doorknob open, paving a breathtaking view of the garden ahead.Â
Garden had to be an understatement. This amount of foliage was nothing short of a forest.Â
Flowers of all kind surround your walk to a shrouded greenhouse, abnormally brick relative to itâs stone-castle counterpart. Its walls are overgrown in slithering vines, door nearly invisible without proper inspection.
Jisung, having noticed your amazed expression, chuckles.
Granted, itâs been years since youâd seen any form of green vegetation, your astonishment felt justified.Â
âWeâve arrived.â
Oh how you wish to stay here forever. Not captive by the Beast Clan, no, but in this garden, hidden.
And if the last door took effort to pry open, this was a new challenge entirely. Through thickets of dense hedge and tangled branches, Jisung had to quite literally ram himself into the chittering wood for entry.
âKnock next time would you?â A voice projects from inside, belonging to a man clad in rounded spectacles, a slightly hooked nose, and cleanly hair parted to the side.Â
The Kings Advisor, apparently having known him, beams his prize-winning smile upon seeing the man.
âSeungminnnnââ Han drawls out, excitedly waddling over to wrap him in a crushing hug. Stiffly, Seungmin pats his back, an action you fondly watch from afar.Â
âAh!â The more ebullient of the two springs up, turning to you. âThis is Seungmin, he runs the apothecary here.âÂ
Nodding stiffly, Seungmin ushers you to one of the many mahogany chairs circling a gateleg table; a vaseâlikely jade with its pale green hueâfilled with indigo hydrangea presides in the center.
âAnd,â Hanâs outburst cuts off your awe. âHeâs practically my little brother.â
Now youâre in awe again, but for a different reason. And by the evident frown on Seungminâs face, he can tell.
âShocking, right?â
Yes, shocking for certain.
Though, before you can reply, Han slaps his hands on either of the manâs shoulders, expression transformed into one of seriousness.Â
âAbout time I left then, yeah?â Was spoken while his form hurriedly retreated out the door, leaving you with more questions than answers to what just occurred.
â..He forgot something again.â
Biting back your laugh, you finally take a seat, given ample time as Seungmin shuffles off to the side to acknowledge your everything to its fullest extent.Â
Matching the plant-infested interior, verdant drawers scatter the corners, a lone, looming medicinal cabinet left ajar as the chemist poured over a variety of assorted concoctions.Â
Air stained with a damp smell of earth, you notice, much to your curiosity, the longevity of such a place.
This apothecary, though inside the castle, feels like an entirely new settlement of its own. An establishment existing before the war, rebuilt (inefficiently) enough to where it was only required to stand stable.
From first sighting youâd grown an attachment to it, but this newfound understanding, these newfound details setting the apothecary apart from your predicament let you imagine yourself anywhere else, back to a nostalgia you longed for.
A short term fix.
âThis.â Youâre handed a phial from overhead. Itâs a slightly green substance, thicker in texture that rests heavy in your hand. âIs for you.â
Slipping across from you, he surveys your analyzing, arms crossed over a deep brown waistcoat.
âAnd this is..?â You inquire, looking up from the cork-sealed glass.
âA salve. You had better not waste it, material is low as is and Iâve been waiting years for this winter to end already.â
Well that didnât answer your question. Youâve heard conversation about a specific salve for days on end, but no genuine explanation caved inâ
âIâve been waiting years for this winter to end already.â
Repeatedly mulling over the words, you can practically feel your heart palpitating, head beginning to spin.Â
..End already? The endless winter.. ending?
âSo youâre saying,â You murmur, placing down this special salve in order to truly regard him.
âThereâs a way to end the Endless Winter?â
His brows crease critically, seemingly sarcastic.
âThereâs an end to everything sweetheart. Life, death. Start, finish. War,â He meets your eyes with a conniving grin, a face you hadnât seen on the man before.
âPeace.â
Automatically, you roll your eyes.Â
Peace? Peace when there was no peace left to be made, no kingdom remaining to make peace with?
âAnd how do you think the nonexistent Mage will make peace with Beasts?â
Seungmin grins.
âWell there is a Mage left,â He scornfully states, flicking your forehead whilst you palm the sting, frown evident.Â
âAnd as far as making peace goes, marriage.â
Marriage.Â
What.
âWait- so youâre telling me big bad King Bahng couldâve just hooked up with a Mage and called it a day and everything would be fine?â
Seungmin clears his throat.
âOne, Bahng doesnât âhook upâ. Two, itâs not as easy as that.â
Of course itâs not as easy as that. Why would it be?
You wish to claw your eyes out of your head, anticipating his explanation.Â
âBecause if you werenât aware before, marriage ties between Mage and Beast are very difficult to establish. Bahng is picky on everything, and even pickier when it comes to mates.â
But before you can argue there were thousands of suitors roaming the L/N Kingdom for him to pick from, Seungmin interrupts.Â
âPlus, if anyone else were King Iâm sure we wouldâve had peace decades ago. Youâre lucky youâre in the castle right now, otherwise you would be eaten alive.â
Your face scrunching worriedly, he rakes an exasperated hand through his hair, plopping down on the vanityâs chair.
âYour scent.â
Again, youâre reminded of Hanâs âyou smellâ comment. Why is it showing up a second time?
He groans frustratedly, wordlessly praying you understand.
You donât.
âMage have specific scents. You canât smell it since youâre not Beast. But let me tell you, you smell fucking delightful.â
Oh.
Thatâs what he meant by eaten alive, and the entire âyou smellâ conundrum.
Seungmin, rather entertained with the shock written on your face, shrugs his shoulders, nonplussed by the crassness of his earlier statement.
âNow you get the use of the salve, right? And why youâre not allowed to leave the castle?âÂ
Your mouth feels dry of response, beckoned toward the exit without so much as a peep passing through your lips.
However, right as the youâre halfway gone, he stops you, brows cocked.
âDo us all a favor and marry him, will you?â
And like that, the apothecaryâs door thumps closed behind you.
If only the âhimâ he was referring to wasnât King Bahng, you mightâve agreed.
Marriage in the L/N Kingdom had been a sacred event.
An event youâd been prepared for since childhood, fed daydreams of a day you would be married to a prince-like man with perfect features and a perfect personality, every element fabricated from a young age.
Truly, you loved it. Loved visualizing a life shared with your loved one, whoever that man would be.
Little did you know he might just be King of the Beast Clan.
No. You refused. Marrying a murderer, the murderer of your family, was the last thing you would oblige to.Â
He sent the command, he led the attack, and youâd rather die than give him the satisfaction of marriage.
Although, one problem. Similar to life back at the L/N Kingdom, supplies only lasted for some time before shipments became low, and pretty soon (according to Seungmin) the salve you were given would run dry.Â
Meaning, your meager chance of protection lay completely exposed, susceptible to any Beast daring enough to try something.
Two sides of a coin remained. Heads, you marry the murderer of a King and spring returns, or tails, you abstain and are eventually left vulnerable.
Youâve always been the person to confront a difficulty head-on, but, in this case, a different, defensive approach crossed your mind.
Run away.Â
Despite Seungminâs sensible reminder to not leave the castle, what other option sounded suitable?Â
Die physically or mentally, pick your poison.Â
Or maybe, never drink the poison in the first place. Evade.
Three days have passed since you received the salve, and after applying it behind your ears and between your elbows at dawn, you were free to do as you pleasedâwithin the castle walls.Â
Yet, tomorrowâs dawn would be divergent. Tomorrow, you would be days away from the Beast Clan.Â
Sneakily roaming around, you managed to find certain outlets to your disposal. Nearby the chambers youâd been kept in was a moth eaten, hooded cloak seemingly unworn for quite awhile. Ideal for an anonymous escape.
Furthermore, amongst the colloquy during a dinner with Changbin and Felix in the Great Hall, you distinctly recall overhearing information about the stables.
If you were to flee, you needed a horse, and thanks to the guard, you knew right where to find one.
Unable to sleep the night before, your dry eyes blink through the dense darkness, sweeping the candlestick from your side table for a minimal source of vision.
Lathering a copious amount of salve all over your skin, you slip down the winding stairwell, grateful for the shadowed moonlight gazing down upon the Throne Room as you venture.
Bingo. Thereâs the cloak.
Sweeping the fabric over your shoulders, you slip the hood over your head, creeping down the steep steps leading into a surrounding ward.
On your left, across the butcherâs vendors.Â
Blindly searching, the whinny of a mare alerts your close distance, carefully winding through lead ropes and linked fences to the first horse in sight.Â
You have to be fast, the sun will rise at any moment it pleases, and itâs impertinent youâre gone by then.
Hoisting a mere saddle pad over the back, you deem the saddle too noisy, slipping the reins overheard and adjusting their length accordingly.Â
Jogging forwards, youâre brisk to gain a running leap atop the horse prior to the thunder of hooves charging forward.
Closer to the gatehouse you near, a luckily open drawbridge allowing easy passage across.Â
Faster, faster. You canât afford to slow down. Daylight is beginning to peer above the horizon, warming your back with rays of sunlight amongst a snowy landscape.
And when the kingdom wakes up, itâll be as if you were never there.Â
But, an undecided factor stayed. Where would you go? There was no kingdom left for you, no home to go to.
For now, you needed to prioritize finding a hiding spot, if only for a night, that supplies warmth.
Given the opportunity, too long out here and you or your horse will indefinitely succumb to the frigid conditions.
Veering off sharply, you sidle beneath a barren magnolia tree, its thick trunk barely blocking the unforgiving wind. Pretty soon youâll have to keep on, but for now, youâll savor the temporary peace.
Blue skies indicate it must be nearing morning, and you assume the castle will be slowly waking up. By now, King Bahng would likely be awake as well, youâve been told he doesnât sleep well anyway.Â
Scouts. Heâll send scouts most likely. Knights like Minho or Hyunjin.
Ugh, the mere thought of Hyunjin finding you a second time makes you nauseous.Â
Except, the longer you consider it, King Bahng is the worst case scenario. Â
I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.
Those words send an entourage of chills slithering up your spine, and not from the cold.
Because while Hyunjin is a type of spiteful strong you want to avoid primarily due to how annoying it is, King Bahng is a quiet strong, the kind that wouldnât confess his anger, but have you witness it firsthand instead.
Enough thinking. You have to go.Â
Using the bumpy roots below you for leverage, you wind a leg around the horseâs back, aiming to reach the edge of the territory before midday.
That was the goal, until youâre pummeling to the ground.
The moment is instantaneous, your horse releasing a shriek as itâs swiped right off its feet, slipping onto hard, icy ground and simultaneously crushing you in its descent.Â
Almost like vomit you feel the screech of pain building in your throat, a numbness in your right leg along with the warmth of blood soaking your clothing doing little to sustain level breathing.
Then, in the midst of your hysterics, you look upon the visible side of your horse, a pair of claw marks scratched right across its stomach.
Scrambling out to the best of your abilities, you bite your tongue, praying this is one of Hyunjinâs sick, sadistic games and not an obvious ambush.
You refuse to die like this. Youâve survived once and youâll be damned to give up now.
âIâm impressed. Youâre not as weak as I thought.â
A sneering tone speaks from behind you. According to the claw marks, Beast, but not one you remember. And with your current stateâbeing unable to rise to your feetâyouâre utterly incapable of ascertaining an identity.
Instantly, your hand reaches up to trace the alcove beneath your ear and neck, any ounce of hope disappearing upon feeling for the salve.Â
Gone.
âNow, care to tell me what a Mage is doing in Beast territory?â
Heâs hiding behind you on purpose, drawing you into a sensory overload, a panicked frenzy of adrenaline and fear.Â
Deer caught in headlights.Â
A curved claw unlike those in the Kingdom of Beasts winds your head back, staring straight into the face of something you can hardly deem Beast, more like wolf.
He has this terrifying look in his eyes, and breath that stenches of metal and flesh.
This man is the kind of Beast youâd grown up believing in. Violent, merciless.
Minho, Hyunjin, hell, anyone. Please.Â
As if second instinct, you assess everything around you, snatching the closest stick to you and jarring the sharp end through the bottom of his chin with all your might.
A gagged, sort of howling sound emits from above you, putrid-smelling blood spraying all over your face.Â
In split seconds does another form appear in your peripheral, your dread heightening before ultramarine stills the horror in its tracks.
King Bahng.Â
Heâs quiet, expertly slicing the back of the neck, the attacker dropping to the ground motionlessly.
âI couldâve handled it myself.â
Itâs a lie. He doesnât respond.
If the first Beast hadnât killed you, he certainly would. He said it himself, whenever he pleased, he could break you.
So when King Bahngâs arms extend toward your position on the ground, you prepare for the worst, crawling backwards as quickly as possible.
Surprisingly, he kneels down in front of you, and, as your vision clears, you notice the concern written on his face.Â
Weird, the feeling compiling in your gut as he looks at you like that. The way your eyes build with tears, lungs finally hacking for as much non-congested air available without a single word said.
Just by his expression alone, youâre a fit of blood and tears, the aftershock hardly helping ease the experience.Â
Crying, in the middle of a forest, with King Bahng as a witness.
âI know, I know,â Is all he whispers, and you barely recognize when he hoists you into his arms, the searing sting of your leg your only indication of movement.Â
Smoothly maneuvering you again his chest, he cradles your body close, one hand directing his horse as you ride back to what you assume to be the Kingdom.Â
Through the aching pain, you canât even be upset about returning, merely focusing on the subtle warmth of his body and the strength willing you to say something.Â
âYou speak nothing of this moment,â You murmur, the Kingâs body erupting into a tremor of laughter.Â
âI speak whatever I like whenever I like, sweetness. No one touches whatâs mine, yeah?â
Mine. You hate the effect he has on you.Â
Yet, your snarky remarks are depleting in tandem with your energy; the soothing, shushing sound heâs making and the repetitive thump of hooves doing little to keep you from sleeps tempting beckon.Â
Eyes drifting closed, his tightened grip pulls you closer, your cheek smushed into the fabric of his coat whilst lost in slumber.
âHold on a bit longer for me, weâll be there in no time.â
Recovery, to your luck, is swift. Either that, or Kim Seungmin is secretly a Mage, because within a week spent off your leg, youâre back to normal.Â
A little sensitive to weight, but overall, healed.
Initially, despite the agony blazing through your body, you were thankful you barely recalled seeing anyone, swept into the apothecary immediately.Â
The last thing you wanted to see after returning would be the faces. Plus, what about your friends? Jeongin, Felix, Han? Youâre sure they looked destroyed.Â
Except, itâs all fake. A feign kindness given to you only by sympathy. What do the faces matter anyway?Â
You gorge that question to the very back of your throat when said Cook walks through the apothecaryâs door, utmost apprehension apparent. He grabs your face, brows knitâbut not in an angry sort of way, more like staving-down-tears.Â
âDonât you ever do something like that ever again.â
Past him, you canât help but smile seeing Seungminâs softened expression watching Felix, adoring his preciousness just as you are.Â
âI promise.â
Nodding curtly, he turns around, leaving you to view the many ingredients scattered across his apron.Â
He rushed here, cute.
âIâll bring breakfast down here.â
Craning, you can barely make out his deep voice, lowered to a nearly inaudible decibel. Ears flushed pink, youâre filled with a worrisome amount of happiness seeing Felixâs embarrassment trying to maintain an upset facade.
âHm? What was that?â
Ah, at this point youâre picking fun.
âI said Iâll bring breakfast down here.âÂ
Precipitously slipping outside, both you and Seungmin are left to stifle your bubbling laughter, graced with the most appetizing platter youâve had the pleasure of eating a few minutes later.
However merciful those first few days were, dissipated. And in a short amount of time, you could feel the eyes boring into your back, the questions resting on the tip of tongues.
All the same, nobody mentioned it. And if anything, that made the paranoia grow.Â
It was gradual. The subtle shadow you swore you saw in corners, the terror stopping your heart in your chest when you swear someone breathed down your neck.Â
Your body may be healed, but your mind certainly isnât.
To a degree that two weeks later, youâve found sleep nearly impossible, lingering in the kitchen in the wee hours of morning, teetering on your wits end.
Some occasions itâs Felix who you see first, wiping the sleep from his eyes, loading coal into the furnaces to heat the kitchen for the day. Other days itâs handmaids, shuffling around busily, carrying goods to and fro.
This time, Minho arrives first, for once wearing regular clothing opposed to his usual armor, steaming saucer in clutch.Â
Perhaps this is an opportunity, he is a knight after all.
âHey Minho?â
Tired eyes sweep to your figure on the table, the rim of his cup held to his lips.
âIâm too paranoid and at this point I might die of sleep deprivation,â You huff, referring to his raging, bed-headed self . ââŠCould you teach me how to use a sword?â
Heâs staring at you like youâve grown two heads, pulling a chair back to settle in, arms crossed over his chest.Â
No sentences need to be said aloud, merely spectating the gears turning in his head enough to set your nerves on edge.Â
Yet, in the midst of your waiting, you note a peculiar bruise peeking from his collarbone, another lingering a tad bit lower.Â
âAnd you think a sword is going to protect you?â
The question is genuine, lacking the bemused nature you were expecting.
Another thing youâve noted throughout your sleepless nights was the continuous amount of times youâd watch the Kingâs Advisor sneak into his quarters, a realization keeping your response baited.
Seems his love life isnât a concern.
âHey, those marks on your neck and shoulder, are those from Haââ
âWhen do you want to train.â
All lightheartedness vanishing, you have to chew your lip to avoid ticking him off further by giggling.
âTomorrow?â
Pushing in his chair with an agreeable hum, you merely whisper a hurried âThank youâ he grunts at, rushing off to who knows where and giving you leeway to recover from the hilarity of it all.
Tomorrow, however, came far too early, not anticipating to be woken up at the crack of dawn, grumpy enough the prospect of blackmailing the Kingâs Advisor became dangerously tempting.Â
Yeah, good luck. Heâs not budging until youâre on your feet.Â
Seems you underestimated Han Jisungâs stubbornness.
Rushed into a loose gown, youâre led to the Inner Ward, an open sector in the middle of the castle.Â
Upon being met with a too-smug Minho, you can practically see the word âpaybackâ hovering above his head, busying himself with fetching supplies.
Perhaps this is karma coming back to bite you.
Ouch.
Except, youâre puzzled. Youâre being taught how to deul, yet your teacher isnât adorning armor nor gear of any kind. Â
At your confusion, the knight chokes a cocky guffaw.
âFirst, we learn how to properly move.â He hands you a wooden sword. âIf I so much as leave a scratch on you Iâm as good as dead.â
Again, he may appear snarky, but his tone is nothing short of serious. Minho is hard to read.
Wait.
Seeing past your panic, the Beast seems to answer your unspoken question.
âKing Bahng is visiting the villages today, he wonât be back till the evening.â
A wave of relief grounds your bones, standing rather pathetically while Minho aids in critiquing your position, instinctively shifting into his own in front of you.
âNow, there are a lot of things to consider when dueling. Iâll narrow things down. Donât overestimate or underestimate your opponent, trust your gut, be aware of everything, and lastly, do not be afraid to deceive.â
Promptly, heâs lashing out before you can even process his advice, wooden weapon drawn above his head as your grip tightens, attempting to block the strike only for his foot to press into your stomach, sending you falling right onto the ground instead.Â
âIsnât that unfaiââ
âLike I said, deception is your greatest weapon. In a game of swords, it doesnât matter how dirty itâs won, it matters who won.â
He reaches a hand out for you to take, helping you back up again only to both fall back into your stances.Â
âKeep in mind, your sword isnât your only weapon.â
Minding his instruction, you continue onward, sparring heartily till the beating afternoon sun becomes too hot to bask in any longer. Amongst the four hours you had been consumed in training, youâve snagged certain valuable points.
Calmness is crucial. Your mind streams clearer when you parried, void to the opponentâs increasing frustrationâgiven an advantage of both agility and focus.Â
Two, unpredictability is a gift. Minho is especially good at being unpredictable.Â
Whether he charges headfirst or aims the forte of his sword toward particularly weak points, you begin to mimic his performance, growing closer and closer to conquering those signature tactics.
Of course, your enjoyment can only last for a bit before it spoils.Â
Spoiling as in, Hwang Hyunjinâs random appearance, sauntering into the area as if heâs King himself.
âWell look at this, didnât think Iâd see our runaway and Minho here.â
Thereâs an air between Minho and Hyunjin, one that forbids Hyunjin from egging his superior on, just like when you were first brought to the Kingdom. Lucky for you, you could be degraded as much as he approved of. Â
Feigning a dramatic gasp, he gestures to either wooden sword held in raw palms.
âNo way, youâre learning how to deul?! Donât tell me youâve never learned basic attacks? Oh right, you never had to fight, huh, princess?â
You bite the skin of your cheek, minding your composure.
âYou know nothing about me.â
âI know enough.â
Now heâs asking for it.Â
âSay,â He sneers. âLetâs duel.â
Keeping Minho from intervening, you apologetically nod to his disproving expression. He knows itâs stupid, even while fetching his armor and adjusting the metal plating to your body, and you do too, but you canât afford to back down, you wonât.
Testing your abilities carrying a legitimate sword this time, Minho grants Hyunjin a terse scowl, their own wordless agreement to tone down on anything too harmful.
Somehow, it grates your nerves further.
Straight away, he charges his right foot forward, the metal colliding with a loud ring, narrowing your body to shield your unprotected side.
Hyunjin, though skillful in his wrist mobility, clearly uses his size compared to you as an advantage, carelessly throwing around his jabs whilst relying on form alone.
You shuffle back and forth continuously, the commotion of metal rifle drawing the attention of Beasts alike throughout the castle, stopping their movements to survey.
Lurching himself forward once more, you will your legs to support you, balancing the crushing force of his pushing ascent with as much strength as possible.
âIf you win, you get whatever sensible award you want,â He grits, using pure weight alone to gain higher vantage. âBut if I win, you marry King Bahng.â
Suddenly, interrupting your stunned reaction to his proposal, Minhoâs reminder breaches your eardrums.
Deception is your greatest weapon.
Honestly, youâre bewildered Hyunjin hadnât played petty thus far, and you have no doubt he will any moment now.Â
You canât afford to waste the opportunity.
Maintaining your gaze targeted on his face, you steal the chance, slipping your sword right beneath his feet, hooking the guard just fast enough to cause his legs to buckle.Â
The tip of your sword centimeters from his neck, you cock your brows, finding satisfaction in the glare heâs boring into your skin from his spot on the ground.
In a game of swords, it doesnât matter how dirty itâs won, it matters who won.
âIf King Bahng wishes to marry me, he will deul me himself. That decision isnât up to you.â
Stalling his immediate laughter upon nudging the sharp point right up against his pulse point, you chuckle.
âI might have to do this more often, youâre not bad when you shut your mouth for once.â
Dropping your sword, you reach out a customary hand he rejects, either of you following Minho to the side stalls to return his armory before a haunting voice stops you in your tracks.
âOne more match?â
Youâd been ignorant to the Kingdomâs sudden burst of energy, the trembling chains of the drawbridge dropping onto cobblestone ground, the gates shifting open.Â
Having appeared through thin air stands King Bahng, constantly arriving at the worst of timing.Â
Heâs clad in traditional armor, though his has fancier plating, cleaner sheen, azure hues hidden within the gorget.
Your stomach ties itself into a knot, piecing together the details. Â
âIf this is about the deal, I donât think I-â
âOh please princess, this was never up to you. We did this for the sake of the Kingdom, you think we ever considered your say in this?â Hyunjin interjects, quickly escorted away by a frowning Minho and an additional guard you donât recognize.
Huh?
What⊠What is he talking about? For the Kingdom? What does he mean for the sake of the Kingdom?
Do us all a favor and marry him, will you? Seungminâs words ricochet in your skull, the parts assembling perfectly into place.
But if I win, you marry King Bahng.
Marriage.Â
They knew all along. They knew you were set to marry him and yet, no one told you.
If your betrayal had been violently inflicted, you would look like a rag doll. All this time, these moments you thought were glee-filled, hopeful.
Lies.
Tearing the Kingâs chance to speak from his fingertips, you pick up your sword, denying your shaky, white knuckles and replacing those broken feelings with rage instead.
No, you canât afford to show weakness. You must replace these feelings as quickly as possible.Â
No weakness, no mercy.Â
âFine, letâs duel.â
âBut-â
âPick. Up. Your. Sword. And fight me.â
Releasing a sigh, he cautiously pulls his own sword from its sheath, waiting to be counted off unlike Hyunjin.
However skillful youâd been before had completely vanished. Though, you would give yourself the benefit of the doubt, this fight meant your future, meant the minuscule bit of freedom youâd gotten to experience here.
The last thing you wished was to realize you had been lied to, but even more so to realize youâve been lied to in front of the entire Kingdom, curious faces peering from the castleâs allures.
Your swings sloppy, you credit the severity of the blows as you attack and defend, evidently dueling with fatal intent.
Youâve lost this battle, you know it. Your senses are too overwhelmed to assess spatial awareness, and every muscle in your arm cries out for relief.Â
Swept off of your feet in a repeated cycle to earlier, you accept, sitting below the tip of King Bahngâs sword, your defeat.
Almost automatically, the pieces of pride youâd attained after your victory against Hyunjin amounted to nothing.Â
You may beat everyone else, but you will never beat this man, now matter how hard you try. The odds will always soar in his favor, and you will suffer the results of it.
This is not a game youâll win. Because from the beginning, you existed as a marionette, enjoying such naivety till the comprehension as to who controlled the play hit you.
This theatre was particularly unforgiving.
He won.
If your insomnia before was grueling, this was an entirely new extreme.Â
Averaging a meager two hours per night, youâre positive youâve memorized the guest list by heart, staring blankly at the crinkled parchment, unblinking.
In a matter of days, the congratulatory ball will be held.Â
Youâll be attending said ball as the bride.
Weeks ago, the guest list had simply been a past time, a mandatory errand for the Kingâs Advisor, a ball you werenât aware, and wouldnât be aware, was meant for you.
Your chest feels.. sad? Empty?Â
Yes. Empty is the word. An emptiness gutting you from the inside, the ugly drawback of exhausted options and worthless optimism.
Thereâs a lot of things to ponder on as well, factors you have to analyze, ensure it wasnât another stage for an audience you so foolishly performed.
No escape.Â
Tuesday, two days before the ball, Jeongin drops by your door, carrying a package under his arm and that effortlessly adorable smile gracing picture-perfect features.
âThis is for you, from.. um..â The anxious boy stammers, placing the binded package on your roomâs veneer.Â
âYou can say his name, Jeongin, Iâm not mad.â
He exhales audible relief, slender fingers wrapping around your hand before you can bid him farewell.
âHeâ The King, heâs a good person.â
You force a tight grimace, agreeing despite your contradicting expression.
Perhaps he is, perhaps he isnât. You donât know what to believe anymore.
Slipping from bed once the young boyâs footsteps fade in the distance, you gingerly unwind crimson ribbon, allowing the leather exterior to unfold.Â
Inside lies a gown. Â
A gown that, investigating how breathtaking it is, should be considered nothing short of a ball gown the longer you stare.
Designed as a mantua, the white fabrics paired with lace neck frill and engageantes add an elegance youâve never seen before. Light, subtle blue hides beneath ruffles of the skirt, further accented by equally blue lace strings fastening the back together and outlining the seam of your square-cut stays.
You can only marvel at the gift given by your future husband, wishing so terribly you could simply run into his arms and pretend everything was well.Â
If only it was under better terms, as if nothing had happened. If King Bahng was another man, itâd be possible.
And Wednesday night, the root of your problems bares his face, knocking at your door while you were under the impression it was Han instead.
Acting as if you didnât care was much easier around everyone but him, especially when you were halfway into tying the laces of your dress, the dress he had purchased for you.
What awful circumstances.
âDonât touch me,â You hiss, regarding the man across from you with a frown.
Lifting either hand in the air, he seemingly invites you to figure out the impossible strings yourself, cueing a very aggravated, very futile attempt at tightening the ties of your ball gown before (hesitantly) allowing the man to slip behind you.
Of course you had to choose now to try it on.
His touch irritably careful, he ensures the fabric is snug fitting but breathable, each woven thread in its coordinating pattern.
Where he learned this you have no idea, only aware of how horrific this close proximity is, your restlessness growing unbearable.
Running his tongue over his top teeth, he backs up slightly, taking you in with apparent speechlessness.
He clears his throat.
âI wonât apologize because I know it means nothing to you, but please, let me explain. I intended to tell you, I just-â
He sounds timid, like a child.
A sour, bitter fury froths like bile in your throat. You want to explode.Â
âNo. No. I didnât want this! I wonât!â You wind around, pointing an accusing finger to his chest. âYou killed them all, my family, my loved ones, children. I hate you. I hate you!â Your voice breaks, a gravelly, disgusting drawl raking your throat raw. Salty, burning tears drip down your collarbones.
Grievance. An innumerable stage of sadness you hadnât reached before now, overflowing.
As he tries calming you down, you only grow angrier, pushing from your path to the door, ripping the handle awry.
Instantly, his arms wrap around your middle, hauling you back as you kick and scream, fingernails digging into any available skin, dress puffing as your legs flail.
Catastrophic.
âNo- No!â
Youâre certain the entire kingdom can hear you, but thatâs the last concern occupying your headspace, too focused on escaping, far off as you had done earlier, anywhere but here.
âStop crying,â He commands, either hand on your wrist pinning your back to the bed, expression morphed pitifully. His calloused hand swipes the storming rivulets from your cheeks.Â
âPlease, Y/n, please stop crying. It hurts.âÂ
Your response shortens into a simple sob, aching.
âIt hurts..?â You murmur, eyes shifting over his face. ââŠYou hurt?â
Incessant crying causing your skin to burn, he only blinks at you.
A fit of anger forms just as fast as it disappeared in the pit of your stomach.
âYouâre hurting? Youâre the sick son of a bitch that killed my family and took everything Iâve ever loved away, you donât deserve to hurt!â
Sucking in a necessary inhale, you angrily flail, wrinkling your nose at the careful tilt of his head, the distance of his face from yours, every scar, every pore close enough to see.
What happened to the King who threatened to break you? Why is he pitying you, looking at you with such kindness?
Longing to bring up how useless the deal was, how the benefits of the marriage arenât your responsibility, you simply glare, emotions a whirlwind you canât explain, canât say aloud.Â
And all he does is stare. Staring like youâve said nothing at all.Â
You want to cry out, want to curse him for all eternity, curse those blue eyes that seem to pave a pathway through your soul.
But you donât. He beats you to it.
â..Do you know why my eyes are blue?â
What?
âBecause Iâm not fully Beast. My mother was a Mage. She turned against my father after I was born, left us, and vowed to do everything in her power to destroy Beasts.âÂ
Your face contorts nonsensically, his tight hold on your wrists loosening the longer he speaks.
âAnd I assume,â He redirects your head, forcing you to maintain eye contact.Â
Rearing deja-vĂș reminds you of your first encounter.Â
âNo one ever told you Mageâs started the war.â
You scoff. Â
âOr that the Mage planned to cut off all trade supply simply out of spite. And so, I did what I had toââ
âYou did what you wanted to. You killed helpless people because of your own problems, my family had nothing to do with it!â Vocal cords throbbing the louder you scream, you try kicking your legs to no avail.Â
âYour family, Mage, had everything to do with it. My people would have died-â
âMine already did. So now what?â
A minuscule pinch occupies his brows.
âYou werenât supposed to be alive.â
âBut I am, so you might as well let me join them.âÂ
He sighs, a stray, obsidian strand of hair hanging over his forehead.
âYou know I canât do that.â
You test the words on your tongue, wedging your hand out to grab his face, feeling the dip of his jaw as he sucks in a breath.
When you first met, he had told you heâd break you. This change of heart confuses you, grates more anger in your chest.
âAnd why is that?â
Opening his mouth, he momentarily closes it, then opens again, contemplating the statement with caution.
Heâs right, in some way.Â
Youâre not supposed to be alive, not supposed to be saddened. You were meant to be in the ground with them, be one of the many bodies littering the L/N Kingdom, granted an eternal sleep.Â
Yet, you arenât.Â
You survived, and you despise this man with every fiber of your being for that.
But things cannot change. You canât bring them back, and his situation is just as painful as yours.Â
You both lost people, or, wouldâve lost people.
An explanation or an apology, as he said, isnât necessary.
So youâll get what you want, tangibly.
Forcefully grabbing his chin and jutting him closer to you on the bed, your voice drips with venom, noses mere breadth apart.
âThen end this winter and marry me, Your Highness.â
For a split second you swear his gaze drifts to your lips, but you shake the thought away, his sharp canines glinting off the mirrors reflection.Â
âArenât I supposed to be the one to propose?â
âYou killed my family, no need for formalities.â
âCare to remind me why you agreed to marry him? Werenât you planning to kill him?â Felix piques, apron woven around his thin waist, skillfully measuring flour thatâs dusted over his nose.
You needed to get your anger out, then devise a plan. Show King Bahng you werenât going to succumb to his charms, tricks. Ever.
You hum from your spot on the counter, conversing just as youâd done back in your kingdom with Ms. Maewether.Â
Technically, he was your new Ms. Maewether.
âOh no, I still plan on killing him, I just want something first.â
Except, you didnât talk about murder in front of Ms. Maewether. That was new.
He raises an eyebrow.
âAnd what would that be?â
Snapping your fingers, you cheerily tap your heels against the cabinets below.
âI want to see spring again.â
Silence overcoming the kitchen, it takes Felix a full minute to understand your preposition before bursting into unadulterated laughter. Well, until he realizes. Then he pouts.
âAw, I was really looking forward to seeing Chris rejected at the altar.â The smaller Beast whines, popping a piece of sugary sweet dough his mouth and handing another to you.
âHey, now thatâs just cruel,â You mumble, muffled by the delicacy youâre currently chewing on.
âAccording to you yesterday, not really.â
Ah. Right.
âWe just⊠have a lot to talk about.â
The phrase sounds stupid, but itâs true. Logically, emotionally itâs true. There is a lot in need of discussing.
For now, youâre indifferent.
âIâve always thought you two were similar.â
The cookâs outburst catches you off guard.
âWhat do you mean?â
âYouâve always wanted to protect what mattered to you most, and maybe, one day, you can understand why he did what he did.â
Leave it to Felix to be your reasonable opinion.
Nevertheless, an invisible barrier rests between you two. A lie. His lie. The Kingdomâs lie.
âFelix, I will never understand why he did it,â You humorlessly chuckle, hopping from your spot. âSo tell me, why did you lie?â
All morning you debated the right time to confront him. Tonight was the night, the congratulatory ball, the wedding. Why wait?Â
Freezing with his back turned to you, he stops mid-slice, dropping the knife atop the cutting board and gradually facing you.Â
Oh Felix.
His nose flushed pink, lips quivering, you allow him to race forward and hug you, head tucked into your shoulder while you stand there, motionless.
âIâm sorry, Iâm so sorry. It was decided from the start, but we were told not to tell you, not until King Bahng told you himself.â
You want to tell him itâs okay, make some jokes, act like things are normal. Though your arms stay glued to your side.
âI guess Hyunjin beat him to it, huh?âÂ
His arms tighten around you and, with a sigh, you pat his back, gently nudging him off of you where you can hold that sweet face of his.
âBut donât worry about me, alright? I can handle this, and I forgive you, so letâs move on from this, Lix.â Tenderly rubbing the skin of his cheek, he meekly smiles, an action you canât help but feel relieved seeing.
Youâre strong. You have to be strong. For Felix, for Han, for Jeongin, for your friends throughout the Beast Clan, youâll be strong. Youâll enjoy wearing the gown regardless of who bought it for you, cherish the wedding no matter the man youâre wedded to.
If youâre going to have to live like this forever, you might as well make the most of it.
On todayâs occasion, youâre dressed by a hand maid sent to your quarters, polished and puffed to perfection by the time five oâclock arrives and the banquet officially begins.
And when you see yourself in the mirror, youâre not exactly sure who stares back at you.Â
Sheâs pretty, yes, but she isnât Y/N. Sheâs a Queen, the Queen of the Beast Clan.
Your stomach wrenches.
By tomorrow, youâll be married. Married to King Bahng. You will be a wife, the wife of a King just as the L/N Kingdom intended.Â
The thought continues to plague your mind, sucking more and more oxygen from your lungs that as youâre escorted to the ball room.
You can hardly inhale and exhale normally as Changbin, whom you appreciate enormously, walks you down the aisle, past an abundance of people youâve never seen before. Beasts, business men, acquaintances alike.
Sensing your panic, your linked arms allow him to spare you a meager glance you anxiously return.
Itâs fine. Itâll be fine.Â
All previous calmness long dissipated, when you finally redirect your attention from your feet and take in King Bahng waiting at the altar, your rampaging anxiousness increases tenfold.
As the audience claps and either of you turn with your backs facing the crowd, you scorn your lack of a poker face when the King rests a hand on your back.
âBreathe,â He utters, only a whisper you heard.Â
Wishing to thank him, you bite your tongue, considering the man youâre referring to in the first place prior to replying.
A sharp nod of your head is enough.
Stifling an exhale, you spin on your heel, both bowing to the public before facing each other and holding hands, an action that shouldnât cause goosebumps to swarm your arms, but does anyway.
âYou plan to smash my face in at our wedding?â He murmurs below the customary vows, acknowledging your fingernails digging into his hand.
âKeep giving me ideas and I migh-â
The retort vanishes when he presses his lips to yours, doubling back in shock before his palm on your back keeps you close.
Granting you breathing room if only for an instant, a slow grin tugs at the edge of his lips.Â
âThen before I die, let me have this first.â
And he dives right back in again, kiss surprisingly tender compared to what youâd expected. Something bruising, dominating.
Instead, the King was soft. Soft as he held your cheek in a hand, soft when pulling you in by the waist.
Separating if only for a fraction of a second, you reach to hold his face, every instinct beckoning you to push him away dissipating into nothing but the nullified drone of your head and the insistent racing of your heartbeat.
âAre you that nervous, pretty? Your heart is-â
You pull him to your lips once more, hating how easy it is to forget, how his lips numb your thoughtsâthough unable to get enough.
âShut up and kiss me.â
The guests hollering in your peripheral the lone sound breaching your eardrums, you canât help thinking.Â
He did this for his people just as you wouldâve done. As for the Mage instigating the war, some secrets shall remain hidden, unable to be answered. You have to accept that among many things.Â
The King has done nothing but care for you, and as much as you resent him for it, you respect him, if only a tiny bit, as well.
Heâs irritable, and not to mention annoyingly handsome. His sympathy-filled eyes might be the death of you, and those dimples of his are stupidly lovable.
But heâs your husband, and somehow, strangely enough, you donât find yourself hating the thought as much anymore.
Not when he holds you, and especially not when he kisses you as if itâs your last.
After the many hours spent celebrating, you couldnât have been more enthusiastic about returning to your quarters.
Joined by King Bahng, you find traversing as easy as ever with the help of the (half) Beast behind you, helping navigate past multitudes of people, oddly comforting touch on your back guiding you through the hallways. Â
Arriving at your room, he pauses, awkwardly shifting his weight on his heels, bewitching gaze flitting left and right, uncharacteristic to his usually smug attitude.
ââŠWas the kiss too much?â
King Bahng, asking if his kiss was too much?
You wanted to photograph this moment in your mind forever, debating on whether you should tease him about it, egg the normally stoic King on.Â
However, you tip his chin down, pressing a chaste, soft peck to his lips, amusedly observing him freeze before melting into your touch.
âCould be better.âÂ
He huffs a sigh in response, and youâre left wondering if this is the same man who threatened to break you, the one who now looks like a pouty toddler.
Although, just as you slip by, he takes ahold of your wrist.Â
âGoodnight Y/N.â
You crack a smile.
âGood night Chris.â
And, suppressing your chuckle, you close the door behind you.
Hastily undressing into nightwear and slipping into bed, you stare up at the ceiling, hours passing from the ticking of a clock in the corner, echoing around the room.Â
Then, abruptly, your door creaks open.
âMy gods, what are you doing here?â You whisper into the darkness, the door creaking behind his crouched form, King Bahngâs crouched form.
âI needed to see you.â
Ah. Donât say things like that.Â
Pulling the covers further over yourself, you squint accusingly at the man as he enters, silencing your urge to reprimand he saw you mere hours earlier, presumptuously sitting opposite to you.Â
He scans whatâs visible, fixating on your hand for a moment.
âYou kept the ring on?â
Noting the gleaming jewel on your ring finger, you canât help but feel slightly bashful. Itâs not like youâre really married, but the thought sends a sort of satisfaction spreading throughout your chest.Â
âIf I take it off, will it become winter again?â
He grins, giggling childishly.Â
âIs that the only reason?â
Debating on your response, you wet your lips, looking back up at his barely distinguishable face shrouded in darkness.
You have no doubt heâs thriving off your hesitance.Â
Oh how badly you wish to wipe that look clean, but in reality, keeping the ring on feels as if a part of you from your own kingdom is with you, similar to your old clothing.
The part of you that, if not invaded, would belong to someone loved, newly wedded.
âNo,â You mutter, though the phrase is barely audible.
He perks up.
âHm?â
You regret saying that. But heâs already heard, thereâs no use lying aimlessly.
âI said no, thatâs not the only reason.â
âCare to tell me the other reason?âÂ
Rapidly averting your attention to your hand, you discover speaking is easier when not looking at him.Â
âKeeping it on makes me feel like Iâm really in love. I like imagining that, being married.â
You miss the sad lilt crossing his face.
âWe are married.â
Without missing a beat, you meet his stare.
âAre we?âÂ
Unlike before, thereâs no waver to your voice, no caution.Â
Winding around to your side of the bed, he settles beside your feet.Â
You clear your throat.
âI wanted to see spring again, and to you, Iâm simply a present. A playtoy to your disposal. This isnât marriage, not how I was taught, this is just a business arrangement.â
Nevertheless, the hurt leaks into your voice. So long to a resilient tone.Â
âY/N, donât do this to me.â
Come to think of it, itâs the first time heâs ever called you by your name apart from last night.Â
Having had enough of his nonsense, you spring for his collar, dragging him below you on the bed. Opposite to earlier, youâre on top this time, youâre in control.
âYou donât deny it.â
A silence passes.
âI would deny it a thousand times, but you wouldnât believe me. And I donât blame you for that.âÂ
He sucks in a breath.
âI only ask you donât doubt this marriage. This isnât a business arrangement, and I will treat you with as much respect and love as possible, even if you donât want me too. That is what marriage is, how I was taught.â
Itâs your turn to inhale, lost within the confines of this dark space.Â
âChris, do you love me?â
You both have people you love, people you want to protect, wanted to protect. It wasnât his intention to hurt you, not when he found you after you ran away, not when ordering a salve to keep you safe, nor now, as you lean above him.Â
Like he told you. You werenât meant to survive. You were supposed to be peacefully asleep, forever.Â
This man, this Mage, this Beast, is as much a murderer as your savior. You choose how to condemn him.Â
âI do, more than you could ever imagine.â
How can you stay mad at a guilty man, a man who kept you alive when you were on the brink of death? Who now professes to loving you, wanting to give you a marriage youâd been cheated of, give you everything youâve been cheated of with everything in his power.Â
Hovering right by his lips to the point your chests touch, you place a miniature kiss there.
âI hate you, so much.âÂ
Then another kiss.
His arms, wrapped around your more elevated form, drag you down in an embrace. One hand presses your face to his shoulder, another rubbing circles on your back.Â
âAnd Iâm so sorry, Iâm so, so, sorry.â
Raising up, you canât contain the tremor of your lip, the way your eyes shakily close shut as you steal a third kiss from his lips, a kiss he returns, hands carefully holding each side of your face.
âChris?â You manage, currently straddling his lap, his body resting against the headboard.Â
Kindly, he keeps a palm against your lower back, helping you balance.
âCan you show me what it means to be loved?â
You never understood how a person could melt until this moment. He wears that look again, like in the forest. The look that makes you cry.
What love looks like for Christopher Bahng, you donât know. You have no doubt there will be ugly moments, moments youâll reconsider, rethink.Â
Youâre both hurt, some wounds still hurting. But for him, for you, youâre willing to take that chance.
âIâd be honored.â
FIC TAGLIST. @stayceebs97 @duhgirl @yourgirljanvi @readr1221 @spearbinnie0327 @hyunjinsartpeice @cheesytangerine @palindrome969 @luminouskalopsia @kiaralynn3838 @chrizztopher97 @starlost-andfound @weeping-angel-in-the-tard1s @zaggprincess2
sunboki, may 2022 ©
#skz x you#skz x reader#stray kids x y/n#straykids x you#straykids x reader#straykids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#bangchan x y/n#skz x y/n#bangchan x female reader#bangchan x you#bangchan x reader#bang chan x female reader#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x you#bang chan fluff#bangchan fluff#bangchan angst#bang chan angst#bang chan comfort
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pleeease do the wedding headcanons for bg3!! can you do all the main boys (and maybe ascended astarion??) đ
Gale
Gale does try to subtly warn you that it will be a big wedding, with the Dekarios Clan far & wide, but you hadnât realized how big.
Cousins, uncles, aunts, friends of the family, friends of friends of the family all come to attend. To the point that you canât have sides at the wedding as the groomâs side would swell over the other. So you choose to have no sides.
Galeâs mother is head of the clan and officiates the wedding. Utterly beguiled by you and the happiness you bring to her son. And a day she thought would never come while he was intwined with a goddess.
Tara acts as ring bearer. A title she is at first insulted about but then refuses to give up. No take backs.
They will have to transmute another wing onto the tower for all the presents. Gale blushes & stammers at other well wishes of having children right away. Heâs not against it but he wants to have you to himself a little while longer.
Wyll
Given his background that I made up and also his rank in society as the eldest son of Ravengard, it was probably always an expectation of Wyllâs to get married. Family lines and all that.
Even when his life was in shambles, deep down he always believed that he would one day be free, get married, and have children with his partner.
It would be a very traditional wedding, with military aspects given his link to the Flamming Fists. This includes uniforms, sword arches, etc.
He cares very little for the formality but takes great pains to follow the traditions.
Wyll is much more interested in the reception. To dance with you who is finally all his, makes nearly ending with the world almost worth it.
Astarion
Heâs surprised you want to get married and have a proper wedding. Can you just be continuing on as you are? Together because you want to be, not because you have to be. Astarion also doesnât likeâŠlabels.
But, if itâs what you want, he supposes it wouldnât be the end of the world. Itâs just a big party at the end of the day, right? He likes parties.
Itâs an intimate little affair with all your core friends come to join you. You couldnât possibly have everyone you helped or made acquaintance with at the wedding. Astarion insists on keeping it small as youâll never financially recover from all the ale you would need for that.
Makes his partners outfit and his own. Something matching, but not on the nose. More of a photo negative matching set. With no red. He doesnât want to think about blood or the past today.
After itâs all said and done, Astarion can see what all the fuss might be about. To tell everyone youâre his. To tell everyone that youâve chosen him. To have a symbol of that for all time. Heâs glad you made him go through it.
Ascended!Astarion
Why? Youâre already his. A piece of paper or foolish mortal ceremony is pointless when you have eternity together as Ascended and consort.
ButâŠ.there are advantages to a wedding. Nobility and the merchant class of all Baldurâs Gate, not to mention powerful allies from afar, striding in like obedient lambs into his castle to pay tribute to the two of you. That is something he can get behind.
He has the grand ballroom flooded with night orchids, casablanca lilies, and any other night blooming flower he can think of. Just because they have to have the ceremony at night doesnât mean that heâll have your wedding be dull and dingy, devoid of color.
A costume change couple as there is an outfit for the ceremony, the reception, first dance, and departure. All custom made with the finest materials available. The kind of craftsmanship that takes 7 seamstresses 7 days & nights to finish on time. But itâs worth it.
Astarion would dance you around the ballroom. As if you were the only two in the room. Floating on air. Heâs completely lost interest in his schemes and guests with you in his arms. Heâll come back to them later but they arenât important when youâre with him.
Halsin
Never believed in marriage or weddings. Binding another person to another with words seemed unnatural to him. People are free to come & go as they please.
But, he also never considered himself a monogamist until he met you. His heart shifting from more of the bear into the wolf. Do not wolves bite and mark their mates like they might do with rings?
It would be a very small wedding. And by small he means just the two of you.
Together in a forest, under Oakfatherâs gaze, using a traditional hand binding of the druids with crowns of flowers and simple garb, you make your pledge.
He would want to consummate your marriage immediately. Right there under your marriage tree; if you let him. He could be persuaded to at least wait until youâre back at your home, but it better be a short walk. Otherwise he makes no promises.
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#baldur's gate#baldurs gate#bg3#bg3 headcanons#headcanons#baldur's gate headcanons#baldur's gate hc#baldur's gate halsin#halsin#bg3 halsin#bg3 wyll#wyll ravengard#baldurs gate wyll#ascended astarion#astarion#bg3 astarion#baldur's gate astarion#gale#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3 gale
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Open arms - Epic the Musical
Polities really does fit Lambheart, doesnât it?
They both were taken so quick.
Note- Lambheart was always a peace keeping cat. If they could use their words to end a fight, they would. They were a lovely cat who adored flowers. Itâs a shame really.
#clangen#clangen oc#clangen art#artists on tumblr#epic the musical#open arms#sorry lamb#digital art#bees#clangen moon#clangen clan
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Would bone broth be a common thing among the clans if they could find something to wrap the bones in (we use cheesecloth but I don't know if there's a wild equivalent)?
Wait you guys wrap your bones
I just boil the shit out of mine, let it cool, and then skim the fat off the top, you guys have fancy bone-fat-cheesecloths?? Do you clean them also? They'd get so greasy!
I've just had the Clan cats be boiling and skimming, especially since that fat's actually really important for them. Especially in WindClan where the fat quantity of rabbits is so low that every little bit of congealed lard is important.
#I just realized I accidentally wrote this like a clan cat would lmao#I just got done making a lamb bone broth like... 2 hours ago#I made a soup with it before I skimmed it though because I was so hungry I didn't want to wait#Just scooped out some and boiled it with allspice and rosemary and pepper#And noodles ofc ofc#It was HEAVENLY#Plan to make a veggie soup with it later#Oh and cream stock#I use a mix of cream and chicken stock#Though I also added garlic salt which paired with the chicken made it a little too salty#So next time I'm going to just use granulated garlic instead#I am making soups beyond your wildest dreams#bone babble
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