Eve's Arrival and the First Night
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Eve curtsied elegantly, her words gentle and musical. "I am Eve, at your service, Your Majesty."
Lucian Drake reclined on the Imperial Throne, his mouth twitching into a faint smile. His black hair, shoulder-length and silky, reflected the light as he inclined his head. "Draw back your face and let me take a look," he said with mock command.
"As you desire, Your Majesty…"
Eve hesitated for an instant — perhaps shy, perhaps reserved — and then raised her dainty fingers to her veil. Silk slid away slowly, drifting down like spring wind's petal.
What lay revealed made even the air pause.
Her hair, at first glance, appeared black in the faint lantern light — but when the light caressed it, it glowed with pink shades like dawn on rose-hued clouds. Her eyes, the same bright pink, seemed to combine innocence with depth. Her nose was tiny, her lips plump and red, her skin smooth as carved jade. She possessed the form of a dream sculpted — a statuesque neck, slim waist that flowed into full hips and slender thighs, every line an artist's brushstrokes made real.
Lucian breathed softly, a pleased smile spreading. "Indeed… a fine and pretty face. With such beauty, you do very much deserve the honor of being the leading beauty of the Ironforge Kingdom." His eyes softened, inquisitive now. "But say — how comes it that one as beautiful, born even among common people, is not yet wed?
Eve cast her eyes downwards, her voice quivering as fine as the edge of a string. "Well, as the saying goes, beauty is trouble. Being beautiful is not a flaw, but without strength to defend oneself… such beauty can draw calamity upon one."
She hesitated before muttering, "It's because this poor girl is rumored to be unlucky, Your Majesty."
Lucian's eyebrows arched ever so slightly. "Unlucky?"
Yes." Eve's rosy eyes sparkled with tears. "Ever since my birth, tragedy accompanied me. During my birth, my mother died. At the age of three, my father also became sick and left this world. I had only my grandmother and two older brothers to look after me.
Her voice shook as she continued. "When I was seven, my grandmother died of illness. When I was eleven, my second brother went into the remote mountains to cut firewood — and was killed by a ferocious black bear. When I reached the age of twelve, my older brother had arranged marriage for me. But within days, our household was robbed by traveling bandits… and every member of that household was butchered.
She gripped her hands together. "My brother, at thirteen, arranged for another marriage, but two days later, that family also suffered misfortune. A third try was no different. People started saying eventually that I was cursed — that any man who approached me brought destruction. They called me the unlucky star… and avoided me.
Her voice cracked, eyes welling with tears. "Only my older brother remained with me. But two years ago… even he got sick and departed."
Her despair clung to the hallway, the soft whimper of her crying faintly resonating off the pillars.
Lucian felt a pang in his chest — not only for her pain, but for the loneliness behind it. "Such a cruel fate," he murmured. "To live shunned for something beyond your control. No wonder you've survived by keeping your heart locked away."
He rose and moved nearer, his Imperial Robe flowing quietly across the polished floor. Gently, he pulled her up. "You've endured long enough," he told her. "From today, you are no longer alone. You will be my wife — and I will be your sole kin in this world."
Eve's breath was taken. "But. Your Majesty," she breathed, her head shaking, "I am afraid I may also bring bad luck to you."
Lucian's laughter was deep and assertive, resonating within the room like thunder pursuing the rain. "I don't believe in this. Let us see if your destiny is powerful — or if my own is more powerful!"
He picked her up before she could say another word.
Your Majesty!" she blanched, her cheeks turning crimson. "Please—"
"Hold on," Lucian cut in with a roguish spark. His eyes flashed briefly with violet light as his mind interfaced with the (Empire Forging Map Game System).
He pictured the Red Rock Iron Mine, then commanded it — and all the iron deposit beneath it — to relocate under a far-off mountain range.
(Extraction complete. Resources relocated successfully.)
Lucian's lips curled. "Now that the job is accomplished." His eyes drifted back to her, warm and intense. "Let's proceed."
He bore Eve through the hallway to his personal room. The room was bathed in warm golden lanterns, sandalwood fragrance hanging in the air. When the heavy doors closed behind them, the world beyond ceased to exist — with only the beat of two hearts remaining.
He set her gently upon the king-size bed. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Lucian leaned down, his voice a whisper close enough to stir her breath.
"Eve," he murmured, "look at me."
She raised her gaze, pink eyes meeting his violet ones. The air between them trembled, caught between hesitation and longing.
Lucian's hand brushed her cheek — hesitant, reverent. "You're trembling," he said softly.
"I… I've never…" she began, her voice barely a whisper.
He smiled, his eyes kind. "Then we'll take it slow."
He leaned in, and their lips met — awkward at first, soft and uncertain, like two strangers learning a language older than words. She made a small sound, half-surprise, half-surrender, and he drew back just long enough to look at her.
Her blush deepened, her eyes glimmering with shyness.
Are you prepared, my wife?" Lucian whispered softly.
Eve nodded, her words but a whisper. "Yes… Your Majesty."
The candle flames danced, illuminating them in rose and gold. Beyond, the wind moaned up through the palace roof, sweeping the night's secret off into the stars.
And as the veil of evening grew darker, the world appeared to dissolve — leaving behind only the distant beat of breath, the heat of two hearts, and the gentle whisper of destiny entwining.