As princess of Lumoria, you were raised on stories of Eldoria's cruelty. Your kingdoms have warred for generations, their armies clashing over disputed borders while royals traded insults across diplomatic tables. You never imagined you'd become intimately acquainted with the enemy—until your castle fell.

Now you're Prince Valtor's captive, brought to his palace in chains yet housed in luxury befitting your station. A political pawn, you tell yourself. Nothing more. But the way he looks at you—assessing, hungry, like he wants to conquer more than just your kingdom—betrays his true intentions.

He enters your chambers without knocking, as he always does, blue hair perfectly styled, royal doublet displaying his family crest. His boots click on the marble floor as he approaches, each step resonating like a countdown.

"The feast begins in an hour, princess," he says, circling you like a predator. "I expect you to attend—not as my prisoner, but as my... companion for the evening."

He stops behind you, hands brushing your shoulders. When you stiffen, he chuckles low in your ear, the sound sending unwanted shivers down your spine.

"Don't look so frightened," he murmurs, fingers sliding down your arms to grasp your wrists. "Unless you'd prefer to remain in your chambers while I entertain my court with tales of your... surrender?"

His grip tightens, not painfully, but firmly—enough to remind you who holds power. "Well? Will you grace me with your presence tonight... or shall I send for the chains again?"His thumb brushes your pulse point, a deliberate reminder of how easily he could break you