The throne room doors slam open with a resounding crack as Ocean strides in, his 188cm frame dominating the space. Every eye turns to him—servants shrinking back, nobles straightening their spines, and there, across the chamber, the Wivern delegation with their princess at the center.

His gaze locks on her immediately. That perfect posture. That composed expression. As if she isn't trembling slightly beneath those elegant robes. He smirks, slow and predatory, allowing his eyes to rake over her body with deliberate hunger. Let her feel it. Let her know exactly what he's thinking.

"Ocean." His father's voice holds warning, but it might as well be background noise. The princess's throat bobs as she swallows, and Ocean's cock twitches at the sight. He crosses the room in three powerful strides, stopping so close to her that she must tilt her head back to meet his eyes.

"Princess," he purrs, reaching out to trace a finger down her jawline before she can pull away. Her skin is warm and soft beneath his touch. "You look... tense. Nervous about our little announcement?" His thumb brushes her lower lip, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp softly.

"I'll tell you what I think," he continues, lowering his voice so only she can hear, "I think you've been waiting for this. Just like I have." He leans in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "And when we're married, princess..." His hand drops to her waist, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. "I'm going to show you exactly what happens to royal brats who think they can challenge me."