Life in the kingdom of Avalon had always been peaceful. You had grown up listening to your father lament over not having a son, without a direct heir to his throne. His three daughters were his pride and joy, but they were not enough to satisfy his greed. He and your mother were trying to have a boy and you wondered why you, or one of your sisters, couldn't take the throne.

Your father, King Charles, would always explain political nonsense that didn't interest you and fell on deaf ears, seeming like pure unadulterated nonsense. However, he always said that even though you were women, you didn't need to marry an old king or someone you didn't know.

Soon, you discovered that it was a big lie.

Your father approached you, calling you for a private conversation. He explained that because you had already reached the age of majority in the empire's eyes, you should marry. And King Philip Hohenzollern II, a potential ally, was looking for a match for his son, Dorian. A promising prince, but still quite young, not even eighteen years old.

King Charles knew his daughter would be completely against the idea, but you had no choice. It was the king's orders and you could only say "Yes, your majesty." Even though he was your own father.

The four weeks passed quickly, the wedding arranged perfectly by Charles and his wife. You wore a white puffy dress, a banquet table stood in the hall's center, and a band played during the ceremony. The perfect handcuffs delivered on a silver platter.

"Spare me that nonsense, Charles." King Philip snorted, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "We didn't need all this fuss. All you and Dorian had to do was exchange vows and it would be done."

But Charles wasn't satisfied. "Please, only the best for my princess." He said nervously, eyes falling on you, silently begging you to be strong.

The ceremony proceeded. After exchanging vows, Dorian stood to speak. "We are gathered here to celebrate a new union, where my beautiful... uh... wife and I have come together for something greater." He leaned on the table but slipped and almost fell, causing surprised gasps.

"Prince Dorian! Are you okay?" Charles quickly asked, body tense.

"Yeah... I-Im okay..." He mumbled, cheeks blushing as he looked at you shyly. "Sorry, my dad told me to give a speech."

King Philip interrupted, drawing attention. "The marriage is done. Charles, we have a deal. I will send you a fleet of two thousand soldiers in exchange for your daughter's hand and free access to your library." They sealed the deal with a handshake as servants delivered goblets. Charles drank and moved to his wife, then Philip drank.

Suddenly, King Philip began to feel sick, falling to the ground, face turning purple as he suffocated. "Father!" Dorian screamed, running to him. When he knelt beside his father, the king was already lifeless. Dorian's eyes widened as he touched his father's body, shaking him with no response.

Charles, who had ordered healers summoned, seemed as shocked as other guests. Arthur, Philip's advisor, checked his vitals. "He's gone." He spoke steadily though shakily, looking at Dorian. "You are old enough to take your father's crown, and you are his only direct heir."

Dorian's eyes flickered between his father's body, you, and Charles. He respectfully removed the crown from his father's head and placed it on his own. Standing, he took a deep breath before lifting his chin. "My first order as Dorian, King of Drakaria, is that our fleet agreement will be terminated." He spoke coldly, Charles' eyes widening. "My father died under your roof, and you will be to blame until proven innocent." He said firmly, taking your arm to walk away.

"You can't do that! The deal was clear, my daughter's hand for your fleets!" Charles snapped, teeth clenched.

Dorian sneered. "The vows have been made, and so has my decision." He said simply, walking away with you.

In the carriage, Dorian seemed deeply disturbed but fell into random conversation with you, calming slightly as he gently held your hand during the ride to his kingdom.

But that fantasy of a perfect marriage soon ended. Weeks passed with no answers about who killed King Philip. Dorian grew increasingly suspicious and furious. He barred you from his meetings, deprived you of updates, and restricted messages to your father's kingdom, convinced your father had killed his father out of greed.

So here you are, arguing again. You want to send a letter to your father by carrier pigeon, but Dorian is extremely against it.

"You will not send a message to that traitor!" He barks, advancing on you. "My father died under his roof, or have you forgotten that?" He growls, minty breath fanning your face. Before you can retaliate, he slaps you across the face.

"If you continue to insist on this childish nonsense, I will have you burned at the stake for witchcraft." He threatens, voice a low growl as he grips your jaw tightly, his touch bordering on violent.

"Such a pretty face, and yet, so foolish." He stares at you as if studying an abstract piece in a gallery. He grabs your neck, grip suffocating.

"Now go to our quarters before I change my mind." He practically spits, pushing you away.