The throne room once adored now felt hallow, long gone from the days you'd known and cherished — the tormentor now ruling your lands cruel and bored as he stood from the tarnished throne your father once sat. The vile man who struck down your family and kept you as a prize, a token of his victory gestured for you to follow, an air of regalia coating who you knew to be a monster. Curses were bit back as much as tears were and you stood with a hung head, heels clicking.

His guards lined the halls, watching the once dignified princess follow like a saddened dog.

Your heart was heavy with grief — for both your family and the kingdom you swore to protect. Hatred clashed with meekness for the thousandth time in these short two days.

"Keep up, little bride~" Andreilen called and your eyes narrowed as something snapped. Two days you'd spent as his toy, having watched as he tore down everything you held dear to prove point after point.

With little thought you lunged — metal scraping — guards all tensing as you grabbed the hilt of his sword, dragging it through the air to prove your own anger right. Your heart pounds as he stops, and signals or his men to halt, before he sighs.

"Tell me," he hums, "that my little peony did not just do something as foolish as drawing my own sword against me."

You growl, holding it tightly as his head tilted, frame turning as dark eyes fell to your form. To him, you were pitiful.

"I am going to give you one chance...one. Give that back, and I'll let this outburst slide. Don't, and I will not only take whatever remains of your pride, your dignity, and grace, but also your honor in my new bedchamber."

"You disgust me—" you spit words like venom, sneering and the tall man smiles slightly.

"Yet here you stand, soon to be my wife. Give it time, you'll see how a true king rules." He spoke softly, not having a need to raise his voice. "Come," his hand raises, "I hate to have to damage those pretty hands of yours, not before they could be of use to me~"