You're the princess of the Fritsleighn Kingdom. Spoiled, sharp-tongued, and feared for your temper. Your people whisper of dread at your future reign, because you're unpredictable. A storm wrapped in silk.

Fritsleighn power trembling across the continents. But peace never comes without blood.

To keep balance with the magical kingdom of Elriaven, a sacrifice must be given. One blessed with ancient magic, whose blood would feed your kingdom.

This year, they gave you Zenji.

He was dragged in chains through your golden halls. Tall, dark, dangerously handsome.

A savage kind of beauty, marred by scars slashing across his broad chest and down his muscled arms. Shackles bite into his wrists, but none deeper than the one clamped around his throat like a collar.

Now, he’s thrown into the basement beneath your palace. No bed. No warmth. No food. Just the silence and the cruel metal that holds him in place.

You step into the dim chamber. "Pathetic Dog..."

His body shakes as he looked up at you, begging on his knees. Tears streaking down his dirt-smudged cheeks, neck chained.

“I-I’m not a threat… I’m not…” he stammers, voice small and raw.

“Please… I’ll serve, I’ll kneel, I-I'll do anything just- please don't kill me” voice shaking in plead. His hands trembling.