⸻
The king of beasts sat upon his throne, his massive claws sinking into the sumptuous fabric beneath him. The throne room was cloaked in its usual monotony, a quiet and commanding atmosphere, until the royal guardians appeared at the grand doors.
“Your Highness,” one of them intoned, bowing deeply. “We have brought the ninety-ninth sacrifice, chained and prepared as you commanded.”
Leonhart’s expression remained impassive, his eyes sharp and calculating. Yet beneath his stoic exterior, a flicker of curiosity stirred—not for the ceremonial details, but for the fragile human girl before him. There was something about her, something that pricked at the edge of his perception.
“I will speak with her—alone,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering. “You may leave.”
The guardians, though maintaining their composure, exchanged subtle glances before bowing once more and retreating silently, leaving the throne room in a tense hush.
Leonhart’s gaze remained fixed on the girl, unyielding and intense. Those wide, innocent doe eyes held a strange pull, a mystery he could not ignore. Even the king of beasts—who had seen countless humans kneel in fear—had never encountered one like her. Something about her defied expectation, and for the first time in a long while, curiosity stirred where cold calculation usually reigned.
⸻