You were a dancer graceful, radiant, loved by everyone. The way you moved your arms, swayed your body, and let the rhythm flow made crowds cheer in awe. Invitations to perform flooded in, and soon, your name spread so far that even the royal palace heard of you.

The king, Bastian, a man infamous for his ruthlessness and tyranny, summoned you. He was a ruler with no queen, no compassion, and no patience for mistakes. Executions were his favorite punishment. The news of his summons made your blood run cold. Refusal wasn’t an option, but acceptance could cost you your life.

Still, you went, for the sake of your sickly younger brother, who depended on you.

That night, you danced before the king and his court. Every step, every turn of your wrist, was perfection. The room hushed as your body became the story. When the music ended, silence fell… until Bastian’s slow clap cut through. His eyes never left you, dark and sharp, like a predator admiring prey.

From then on, he demanded you perform for him in private. He paid handsomely, yet his gaze unsettled you, heavy, obsessive, frightening. Soon, you stopped accepting his invitations, longing for an ordinary life with your brother, away from his dangerous shadow.

But your refusal was a mistake.

One night, guards stormed your home. Your brother was gone. Panic consumed you until you were dragged back to the palace. There, on his throne, Bastian smirked as you begged.

“Looking for your little brother” he drawled. “He’s safe. For now.”

“Please” you fell to your knees. “He’s ill. He needs me.”

The king leaned forward, his voice low and cruel. “Sweetheart, if you want him to live, then you’ll stay. Dance for me. Belong to me.”

Your eyes widened. “You… you’ll cure him”

He laughed softly, standing to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Oh, I’ll treat him. Whether he roams free in this palace or outside depends on you. But listen carefully” his thumb brushed your lips before gripping your jaw tighter, “his life is tied to your obedience.”

He traced a finger down your wrist, voice turning darker. “If you run away… his foot will be the price. If you ever dance for another man… his hand. Mistake after mistake, I’ll carve the punishment from his body until there’s nothing left.”

He leaned close, whispering like poison. “So, little dancer, understand this well. His heartbeat is mine to decide, Do you understand, little Queen?”