When Grandma left the room, tapping her cane with a heavy heart, a thick silence descended. She knew that by fastening that locket around Nikita's neck, the King had ensnared her not just physically, but mentally.
King Kairen brought his face dangerously close to Nikita's. Staring deep into her eyes with his cat-like gaze, he whispered:
"From now on, Nikita, you will no longer listen to Grandma's stories. From this moment, every breath you take and every memory you hold will revolve around me. This locket will be a constant reminder of whom you belong to."
Nikita was still staring at the ceiling, but as the locket touched her skin, a strange shiver ran through her body.
The Locket's Influence: Nikita felt her intense hatred begin to blur like fading mist. She could feel the brilliance of her sky-blue hair, but now, that light had surrendered to the King's will.
The Transformation: Slowly, she turned her neck to look at the King. Her sky-blue eyes no longer held their former fire; instead, there was a mysterious void. She reached out and placed her hand on the King's flawless cheek.
The King burst into laughter. He knew his work was done. With a sudden jerk, he pulled Nikita from the bed and stood her before the mirror. Nikita was stunned by her own reflection. The "cute" locket around her neck was emitting a faint blue glow. The King stood behind her, resting his face on her shoulder. Like a machine, Nikita turned toward him and whispered in a low voice:
"Maharaj, is your cigarette finished? Will you give me the smoke one more time?"
The King was surprised to see that Nikita was no longer trying to escape. She had begun to grow accustomed to his debauched nature. With his chest still bare, he pulled her close again.
The Night in the Garden
After that terrifying night, Nikita's life changed drastically. One night, when the palace was silent, she went for a walk in the garden to calm her mind. In the moonlight, her sky-blue hair shimmered silver, and the locket glittered.
Suddenly, she felt someone following her. The familiar acrid smell of cigarettes and heavy footsteps. She turned to find King Kairen emerging from the shadows with his cat-eyes. He wore his royal, loose-fitting robes, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.
The sight of him made Nikita's suppressed rage explode like a volcano. She screamed in fury:
"Why are you here again? Aren't those blindfolded slave girls enough to satisfy your lust? Why won't you leave me alone?"
King Kairen remained unbothered. He exhaled smoke from his long pipe. Behind the veil of smoke, his pale cat-eyes looked even more menacing. He stepped closer and said:
The King's Dominance: "This garden, this air, even your every breath is now under my command. I go where I please."
The Mystery of the Locket: Touching the locket with his finger, he asked, "Why so angry, Nikita? Is this locket not enough to keep you calm? Or is your 600-year-old fire returning?"
Nikita jerked his hand away, trembling with rage. Though she was now a mere girl without powers, her sky-blue eyes flashed with defiance. "Maharaj, you may have imprisoned my body, but not my hatred. You cannot tame me with this locket."
King Kairen's loud laughter shattered the silence. At that moment, Grandma's white cat appeared in the bushes, its eyes glowing in the dark.
The Slap and the Consequence
Unable to endure his mocking smile and the insult of his smoke, Nikita's 18-year-old blood boiled. As he stepped forward again, she lost control.
SLAP!
Nikita struck the King's cheek with all her might. In her humiliation, she forgot she was standing before a powerful and cruel tyrant.
The Reaction: The King's head snapped to the side. His long pipe fell from his hand. The sound of the slap echoed like a thunderclap. He remained silent for a few seconds, his fair cheek flushing red with insult. When he slowly turned back, his cat-eyes were no longer mesmerizing—they were murderous.
He laughed a low, terrifying laugh. Grabbing Nikita by the throat, he pinned her against the wall. Through gritted teeth, he hissed: "Such insolence! You dared touch me with this hand? Tonight, you will use this very hand to wash my feet."
The Submission
Nikita began to tremble. She realized she had provoked a beast from whom there was no escape. Terrified, the 18-year-old girl began to plead like a helpless child:
"Oh... Sorry! I... I didn't realize, Maharaj. I made a mistake."
Standing before his 6'7" frame, Nikita looked like a tiny shadow. She begged for mercy, her sky-blue hair fluttering in the wind. "I am young... I did it in a moment of anger. Please forgive me."
The King's cruelty flared. He gripped her face tightly, a cruel smile returning. "Does a 'sorry' fix everything? You may be a child, but your audacity is that of a King." He blew smoke directly into her face. "Children are punished when they make mistakes, aren't they? Tonight, I shall arrange a very 'special' punishment for you."
The Puppet
Seeing her cowering face, the King's anger turned into a dark lust. He set his pipe aside and suddenly swept Nikita off her feet, picking her up in his arms.
Like a Child: Against his massive, broad chest, Nikita looked like a small doll. Her long hair draped over his arms.
The King's Smirk: He looked into her eyes and mocked, "Scared now? You were so fierce a moment ago. Why are you curled up like a child now?"
Nikita clutched his clothes in terror, overwhelmed by the heat of his bare chest and the scent of tobacco. The King, with steady yet predatory steps, carried her out of the garden and into the palace. The white cat followed them, its tail puffed up.
Nikita whispered feebly, "Maharaj, put me down... everyone is watching."
King Kairen tightened his grip and said with a strange glow in his pale eyes, "Let them watch. From today, let everyone in this palace know you are nothing but my plaything."A Night of Submission
Upon hearing the words "plaything" from the King, Nikita's fear instantly transformed into insult and defiance. Still held firmly in the King's massive arms, she gave his chest a small shove and cried out, "Tong! Go away... what are you even saying!"
This sudden outburst the "Tong!" and "Go away" was the manifestation of an 18-year-old girl's playfulness and senseless rage. King Kairen, the sovereign of the realm and a terrifying ruler, froze at such an unexpected response.
The King's Astonishment
King Kairen widened his piercing cat-eyes and stared at Nikita. No one had ever dared to treat this 6'7" terrifying man with such flippant disregard.
Nikita's Childish Defiance
In her rage, Nikita began to kick her legs. She grabbed the collar of the King's open-chest royal robe and shook it, yelling, "I am not a doll! Put me down right now! You are very mean!"
A Shift in the Atmosphere
The smoke from the pipe in the King's hand seemed to freeze along with his surprise. His mysterious smile faded slightly; he was momentarily at a loss on how to handle this 'child-like' girl. He tightened his grip to ensure she wouldn't fall. A hint of amusement, rather than wrath, began to play in his whitish eyes.
He whispered darkly, "Such courage? Talking back right after slapping me? I see I have no choice but to punish you tonight."
Nikita made a face at him and retorted, "For heaven's sake, don't try to scare me with those 'terrifying' punishments. You've only grown in size, not in wisdom!"
The white cat perched at the corner of the palace stairs watched intently, appearing shocked by Nikita's audacity.
The Silent Command
Hearing her playful "Tong! Go away!", King Kairen's patience finally snapped. He abandoned all logic or argument. The 6'7" giant suddenly leaned in and, with his powerful lips, kissed Nikita deeply.
All of Nikita's words died in her throat. The King's cat-eyes were fixed on her from inches away. Nikita went completely still; her entire body felt as if it had turned to stone.
The King's Warning: Breaking the kiss, Kairen moved to her ear and said in a low, heavy voice, "Shut up. Not another word."
Nikita's State: 18-year-old Nikita turned beet-red from fear and shame. Her sky-blue hair was now tangled in the King's grip. She didn't dare utter another sound; the authority in his whitish eyes had completely subdued her.
The King pressed her even tighter against his bare chest. The smoke from his pipe tickled her nose. With a cruel yet seductive smile, he made it clear: in this palace, his word was law.
The Observer and the Descent
After the sudden kiss and the harsh command, Nikita fell into a trance-like silence. She stopped struggling and, while still in the King's arms, began to watch him with the eyes of a curious observer. Through her large sky-blue eyes, she tried to perceive this monstrous man anew.
The King's Eyes: She noticed that his whitish cat-eyes were no longer just predatory; they held a deep loneliness or a thirst for power.
The King's Form: From this proximity, she saw his flawless, handsome face and the crooked smile at the corner of his lips. The muscles of his open-chest torso radiated his sheer strength.
The Locket's Pulse: Nikita felt her cute locket growing warmer the longer she gazed at him, as if it were sending signals to her brain to surrender to the King's will.
She reached out her small hands toward the King's neck—not to strike him this time, but to touch the intricate patterns of his royal attire. She wondered: Was this man truly the cursed king from 600 years ago, or was there a human heart beating within him?
Kairen was surprised by her steady gaze. He exhaled a final cloud of smoke and whispered, "What are you looking at? Are you finally ready to accept me as your King?"
Nikita said nothing. At that moment, the white cat on the stairs let out a cry, as if warning her to wake up from this spell.
The Mark of Possession
As Nikita observed him closely, the King could sense her attraction. He could no longer restrain himself. He cradled her neck with a strong hand and kissed her lips deeply once more.
This wasn't just a kiss to silence her; it carried the thirst of 600 years and a claim of absolute dominance. Nikita melted into the warmth of his massive body. The faint scent of his pipe and his masculine musk overwhelmed her senses.
Her eyes slowly fluttered shut, and she instinctively clutched the collar of his robe. She felt the locket against her chest turning burning hot, as if injecting a magical intoxication into her blood.
When the King finally pulled away, Nikita was breathless and disheveled. He stroked her cheek and whispered, "Will you still say sorry? Or will you admit that you belong only to me?"
The Walk to the Chamber
Overwhelmed with shame, Nikita hid her face in the King's broad chest. Her fair cheeks were a deep crimson. Kairen took a sadistic pleasure in her shyness. He wrapped one hand around her incredibly long, sky-blue hair.
Her hair was so long that even as he held her in his arms, the ends swept across the floor. In the moonlight, the blue tresses looked like a magical waterfall.
"Your hair is as disobedient as you are," he whispered. "So long it could tie my entire palace in knots."
He didn't stop there. Entwining her long hair around his hand, he began walking toward his grand royal bedchamber. Her hair trailed behind them like a royal tapestry over the stone floor. The white cat leaped ahead of them, acting as a guide into Nikita's new life of captivity.