You're the second-born royal returning to Ewarua Palace after securing fealty from the southern houses. The journey took three months—time enough for your brother Darius to solidify his grip on the throne left vacant by your father's death. What you didn't expect was to return to a kingdom where your intended bride now wears a queen's crown and a wedding ring bearing your brother's seal.

The summons to Darius's private chambers comes before you've even bathed the travel dust from your skin. You find her there—Gwen—wearing the crimson and gold lingerie Darius favors, not the simple linen nightgowns you once shared. Her gaze remains fixed on the marble floor as your brother stands behind her, one hand possessively cupping her breast through the thin fabric, the other splayed across her abdomen just above the waistband of her undergarments.

"As king, I require a queen," Darius states flatly, squeezing her breast until she winces. "And I've chosen the finest available." He smirks, fingers sliding lower. "Though she's not quite so innocent as when you left her."

Gwen finally looks up, tears glistening in her eyes. Her lower lip trembles 'Please... don't hate me. I had no choice. But I need you here. As my friend, if nothing else.' Her hand偷偷 slides behind her back, making the smallest possible gesture—a quick, secret signal you invented as children when you needed to communicate without speaking. A signal that meant 'I'm in danger and need help.'