I hid behind the massive, carved pillars, my heart thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Titi, my dark-skinned companion, crouched beside me, whispering sharply. Our plan was reckless—barely a plan at all—but it was my only chance.
A hulking guard stood watch, spear in one hand, posture rigid.
"W-WHAT'S GOING ON?!" he suddenly roared, clutching his head.
Titi's diversion sprang into action: a flock of tiny, magical birds flapping and pecking at him. One of them even SQUIRTed something straight into his eyes.
"ARGH!" he bellowed, momentarily blinded.
Titi seized my arm. "Let's use this chance to get inside, Lucina!"
The guard staggered, wiping his face, shouting incoherently.
"GO AWAY! FLAIL FLAIL!"
He kicked at the air and swung his spear wildly.
We pressed ourselves low and slipped past him.
Sneak, sneak, sneak.
---
We burst through the heavy curtain and into the royal chamber.
The opulence stunned me—the air seemed to shimmer with gold dust, scarlet fabrics draped every corner, and the hush of CHATTER from onlookers died the instant we appeared.
At the top of a long flight of stairs sat the King of Tayar: a massive, imposing man draped in a red mantle, gold jewelry heavy on his broad shoulders. Beside him stood a tall, handsome warrior, equally adorned.
Panic clawed at my throat.
Exhale.
I closed my eyes for just a second and remembered Titi's lessons.
"I need to speak loudly… clearly… I can do this."
I stepped forward. Every eye locked onto me—the girl they thought was too timid even to breathe loudly.
I bowed, low and deliberate.
"Greetings, Great King of Tayar," I said, voice ringing through the hall exactly as Titi had trained me. "May you be blessed with prosperity."
---
👁️ The Reaction
The King's eyes widened. A ripple of surprise passed down the dais.
"Is she really the Lucina I know?" the warrior beside him murmured. "I always thought she was too scared to even speak properly."
Before I could respond, a beautiful dark-haired woman exploded with fury, rounding on the hapless guard who had failed to stop us.
"WHAT IS SHE WEARING?" she hissed sharply. "HOW DARE YOU LET HER INSIDE LOOKING LIKE THAT?"
The guard, still trembling, bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the floor.
"I—I'm sorry, Your Highness! I tried to keep her out, but she slipped past me when I was distracted!"
Across the room, Titi was still catching her breath.
"HUFF… that damn bird… HUFF HUFF… she got away because of it!"
I ignored the noise.
With my eyes fixed on the King, I placed a hand over my heart. The gold embroidery of my dress caught the chamber's warm light.
I was no longer the frightened girl they remembered.
I was here. And I would not be silenced.
---
The King cleared his throat—a deep, resonant sound that rolled across the hall.
"AHEM. You're late."
My confidence cracked. My mouth went dry.
"U-um…"
Titi visibly deflated beside me. She rushed forward.
"PLEASE FORGIVE US, YOUR MAJESTY," she said, bowing low. "We ran into trouble on the way here, which made us late."
The King's stern expression tightened.
"You ran into trouble? What are you—"
He froze. His brow furrowed, realization dawning.
"WAIT…"
He didn't finish. He rose from his throne and descended the stairs, each step exuding power.
I flinched, instinctively leaning back as he reached out—but his hand was gentle as he took mine.
"Your hand is bruised, Lucina," he said softly, his voice shedding its imperial tone.
Titi stiffened. "WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?"
Before I could speak, Titi answered for me, fury trembling in her voice.
"The guard outside said anyone wearing inappropriate clothing wouldn't be allowed inside… and stopped her from entering."
She gestured at my simple attire, so starkly different from the lavish silks around us.
The King looked down at the faint bruise on my skin, his thumb brushing lightly over it.
And in his eyes, I could see it—a promise of consequences.
---
Hakan's boots struck the marble floor with a decisive STEP, the sound echoing through the vast chamber. The air seemed to tighten, drawing in around him like the fabric of his red mantle. His fury was not a wild thing—it was disciplined, devastating, regal.
"You have forsaken the rulers of this palace… and insulted the Kingdom of Tayar," he declared, each word a weight that made the hall tremble.
He raised the sword. CLINK.
"That is a crime punishable by death."
A choking silence followed.
The guard—the one who had grabbed me hard enough to leave that bruise—began to TREMBLE, his knees shaking so violently I could hear the faint knocking of bone against armor.
The beautiful dark-haired woman who had mocked my attire scrambled forward in desperation.
"I'M SORRY, YOUR MAJESTY. IT SEEMS LIKE THERE HAS BEEN A MISUNDERSTANDING—"
"NO, YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THAT."
Hakan didn't even look in her direction. He dismissed her with a flick of his fingers, his eyes sharp as obsidian.
"Bring me my sword, Turan."
Turan obeyed instantly, lifting the weapon with both hands. Hakan seized the hilt, the metal ringing as it left its sheath.
He turned—not toward the condemned guard, but toward me.
"Lucina," he said, my name rolling out in a deep rumble that vibrated straight through my ribs.
Then he addressed the hall again, voice booming with terrifying certainty:
"Any insult to you is an insult to me, the Ruler of the Tayar Tribe. His disloyalty must be punished by death."
My breath hitched.
This… is because of me? Because of my hand? Because someone touched me?
The guard collapsed with an agonized SLUMP, as if the weight of the sentence had crushed his spine.
"HAKAN! I'M… FINE," I managed, my voice cracking from panic and disbelief. My heart hammered a frantic BA-BUMP, BA-BUMP, loud enough I thought the entire hall could hear it.
Hakan stepped toward me, closing the distance with a quiet authority that made everyone else vanish from my awareness. His hand—large, warm, commanding—settled on my shoulder.
I stiffened in shock.
He shifted his stance, his body angling to shield me from the gawking eyes of the court.
He was blocking their sight of me. Hiding me. Claiming me.
"In this Kingdom," he murmured, his tone softer now, a voice meant only for me, "no one apart from me is allowed to touch you."
The meaning of his words hit me with scorching clarity.
This wasn't only protection.
This was possession.
My face burned. My thoughts tangled. My pulse stuttered in my throat.
Behind us, a weak, trembling voice broke through the tension.
"PLEASE SAY SOMETHING," the guard whimpered from the floor.
I stayed pressed against the Ruler's chest, my hands clamped tightly over my ears as he had commanded. Even through the muffling pressure of my palms, I could hear the faint vibrations of the execution—the sharp SLASH cutting through the air, the sickening SLUMP of a body collapsing. A wave of dread washed through me, cold and suffocating.
My world narrowed to the warmth of his hold. The terrifying brutality unfolding behind my closed eyelids clashed violently with the steady strength of the arms shielding me from it. His heartbeat was calm—steady—nothing like the chaos he had unleashed upon the hall in my name.
My breath trembled.
All this… because someone touched me. Because someone stopped me.
Then I felt it—his hold shifting. My feet left the ground. He lifted me effortlessly, cradling me in a firm bridal carry, the movement so gentle it almost shocked me after the violence that had just torn through the hall.
I kept my eyes shut, afraid to see the aftermath.
But his voice—deep, resonant, final—filled the chamber.
"The banquet is over."
A single announcement.
A death sentence for the celebration itself.
The joyous, golden atmosphere that I had been excluded from now lay in ruins—just like the guard who had wronged me.
He stepped forward, each STEP echoing with an authority that left no room for disobedience.
"I will return to my quarters with Lucina," he declared. "Don't disturb me."
Even with my eyes closed, I felt the shift in the crowd. Their shock was a palpable thing—an electric CHATTER swelling quietly in the wake of his decree.
And somewhere in that sea of stunned silence, I felt a spike of silent hatred.
Her.
The woman who had orchestrated the entire humiliation—who believed she was protecting him, or preserving her place—now stood frozen, defeated. I could almost hear the tight GRIT of her teeth, the bitterness curdling in her throat. Her plan had not just failed—it had backfired catastrophically.
He walked with a steady, unwavering stride, carrying me past all their stares.
Only then, when I felt we were far from the horror behind us, did I allow myself to slowly crack open my eyes.
I looked up at him.
The Ruler's face was carved in stone—stern, fierce, impossibly handsome in its severity. His jaw was set, his eyes burning with a possessive fire that sent a shiver slipping down my spine.
In that moment, everything became painfully, beautifully clear.
I was no longer just someone living quietly in his palace.
No longer someone who could be dismissed or pushed aside.
I was officially under his complete, terrifying, and utterly exclusive protection.