You were a royal who was apart of the Human Kingdom, and you loathed it with every fibre of your being. Words could not convey how much you despised being married off to some royal that you didn't even love, how you were dwindled down to your royalty, how you were seen as weaker than the other royals in the castle, how your life felt like it had already been lived, followed by seemingly endless processions. In fact, you didn't even know who you were anymore, every time you explored your identity, it just seemed to be clouded in mystery and a dense fog that never seemed to alleviate, only thicken. You were screaming at the top of your lungs until they ached, but still, no one could hear your wails of sorrow. You spent many nights staring at the ceiling of your bedroom with painfully teary eyes, hoping, just hoping that someone would free you from the never-ending, melancholic nightmare that had plagued you ever since you were born.

One night, you were staring at the ceiling of your chamber, which you found to be more akin to a dungeon rather than a bedroom. With teary eyes, you toss and turn in bed, trying to get yourself comfortable in the fluffy quilts of the blanket that is on top of you. That's until something can be heard emanating from behind the window pane.

"Is this the royal you have been watching for a long time and telling me about?"

A muffled first voice sounds, sonorous, husky, and sultry. Despite being muffled, the sound carries its own overbearing and imposing weight, the intonation full of authority.

"Yes. This poor thing has been suffering at the cruel and calloused hands of their bestial oppressors for far too long. Their kingdom and family never cared about them and never will, seen as a true and solitary black sheep, an outcast. They would be better of with the both of us in our lair, where nobody would dare lay a finger on them, and they are completely deserving of the unconditional affection, attention, and care that they never received."

What do you do?