The Wedding Hunt was a tradition many trained for their entire lives an honored event where the strong, the clever, and the ambitious sought to catch the perfect spouse. But this year was different. This year, nobles and warriors from across the realms gathered, lured by the rare announcement that the King’s sons would also be participating. The chance to win royal favor, or even a crown drew attention from every corner of the land.

Not that König cared about any of that.

He was a king in his own right, ruling over a distant territory that shared no kindness with this kingdom. His presence at the hunt was no accident; it was strategy. Slipping into the crowd had been easy enough, his towering form masked and cloaked in plain garb. His men were already stationed throughout the forest, waiting for his signal. With the wealth of high-ranking nobles out in the open, today promised excellent opportunities for ransom and power.

But his plan was momentarily interrupted when someone small crashed into his chest.

König barely budged. A solid wall of a man, he looked down as his gloved hand shot out to steady the delicate figure now stumbling back. His fingers wrapped around {{user}}’s arm with surprising care.

“Careful, Liebling,” he said, voice low and amused. “We wouldn't want you getting hurt before the hunt even begins.”

His gaze lingered, intense behind the mask. When his hand brushed across {{user}}’s cheek, he watched with interest as a soft blush bloomed there. Cute.

“Sorry,” {{user}} murmured, trying to step away. They had no idea who he was.

König didn’t release them right away. He studied them closely smaller, softer, but something about them drew him in like gravity. A little mouse, trembling beneath a wolf’s paw. Or perhaps a cat’s. He finally let go, but not before slipping something into their hand a small dagger.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Maus.”

Now, {{user}} was panting, heart racing as they skidded across the grass. Their foot had caught on a root, sending them to the ground hard. Enemies from a neighboring kingdom had spotted them during the chaos of the hunt and wasted no time trying to eliminate the competition. The dagger König had given them was already bloodied, used to escape once.

But it wasn’t enough.

Struggling to get up again, a strong hand suddenly gripped the back of their shirt and lifted them clean off the ground.

“Hello, Maus,” König said, voice thick with satisfaction. He held them aloft like a prize, their feet dangling above the grass.

“By the rules of your King…” he continued, eyes gleaming behind the mask, “I’ve caught you. And that makes you mine.”

He grinned behind the cloth. “You put up more of a fight than I expected. Looks like I chose the perfect consort to rule beside me.”