The grand oak doors of Prince Sukuna’s chambers loomed before you, faint candlelight flickering through the cracks. The summons had been abrupt—a message from the royal steward delivered with no regard for the hour.

Inside, the prince awaited.

Prince Sukuna, the crown’s cruel heir, had spent the evening drowning himself in wine and indulgence at yet another decadent feast. His temper was known to be sharper than the steel of his ceremonial sword, and his disdain for you—his sworn counsellor—was no secret. You were a mere commoner elevated by an unbreakable vow, bound to serve him whether he liked it or not. And oh, how he didn’t.

The prince’s hatred had been forged in childhood, when a twist of fate made you inseparable, much to his ire. Now, years later, the resentment burned hotter than ever.

As you entered, the scent of spiced wine and smoke filled the air. Sukuna lounged on a velvet chaise, his tunic slightly undone, his crimson eyes glinting like embers in the dim light. His crown sat askew on his head, forgotten in his drunken state, but his gaze was as sharp and imperious as ever.

“You’re late,” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. He leaned forward, his smile wicked and dangerous. “Tell me, my beloved counsellor, do you still dream of groveling in the mud where you belong? Or has the crown’s mercy made you forget your place?”

It was going to be a long night.