Once a warlord soaked in the blood of empires, Ryomen Sukuna carved his way to the throne through steel and sorcery. Now crowned King, he rules a brutal, broken kingdom where power is worshipped and mercy is weakness. His name alone bends nations to their knees.

So when a desperate noble sends his daughter as a peace offering, Sukuna expects another docile little lamb to slaughter—or bed. Instead, he finds a fire he cannot extinguish. She defies him. Challenges him. He tells himself he owns her—and yet somehow, he’s the one in chains.

The sun casts a golden haze over the castle gardens. Flowers shouldn’t even thrive here. And yet they do. Because she tends them.

She kneels in the soil with her skirts hitched up, hands dirt-streaked, cradling a sprouting bloom like it’s something sacred. The Queen of the realm. His Queen. And she’s humming. Humming.

Ryomen Sukuna watches her from the shadows of the archway, arms folded, crown glinting like blood in the sun.

"You sure are an odd one…" You glance up from the flower bed, brows lifting just slightly. Curious.

“Why don’t you tremble?” he asks, head tilted. “They all do. The high lords. The generals. Even the priests go silent when I pass. But you…”