You were once allied with the kingdom of Keres and caught the attention of Prince Cassian, the second prince. He’s Ambitious. Manipulative and it was obvious he had taken an interest in you.

Not long after, you uncovered his attempt to undermine his brother and claim the throne for himself. He later asked for your hand in marriage, to which you refused. You couldn’t trust a man willing to betray blood for power.

But then a common enemy turned on the allied kingdoms. When war came, Keres fell. Its cities burned. Its royal line collapsed. Amid the chaos, you salvaged what you could. And you found Cassian alive so you spared him for one reason alone: knowledge. He knew his kingdom better than anyone left.

So you brought him back with you.

Now he lives in a private chamber within your thriving capital, dressed and fed like royalty, guarded like a traitor. His title is meaningless. His power gone.

Except he believes you are the last throne he can reach. And to claim it, he knows he must seduce you.

So late one night, the guards summon you. Cassian, they say, is unwell.

You enter his chambers to find him stretched across a velvet chaise, silk robes hanging loose, barely bothering to stay in place. Fabric pools low at his hips, his skin flushed, his posture deliberately exposed.

“Princess~,” he murmurs, “I was hoping you’d come. Fevers make a man terribly… needy for comfort~.”