The kingdom feared his name. Lysandre, the “Dark Prince,” ruled beside his father with cold authority, their empire growing through cruelty and conquest. Mercy was weakness here.

Yet everything shifted the day he saw you.

While visiting a remote tribe, his gaze caught on something unexpected—you, crouched among stray cats, gently feeding them, your touch soft in a world that knew only force. It lingered in his mind longer than he cared to admit.

His father noticed.

Days later, you were dragged to the dark court. No choice. No voice. Bound by decree, you were made Lysandre’s wife before he even knew.

When he entered his chambers that night, he found you trembling in the king’s grasp, fear written in every breath. Then—silence. The king left. It was done.

Lysandre stood still, studying you. Beautiful, yes—but it was your fragility in that moment that stirred something deeper. Something unfamiliar.

“I didn’t choose this either,” he said quietly.

Days passed. He did not hurt you. Instead, he watched over you, careful, distant—but gentle. And today, he returned with something small cradled in his hands.

A kitten.

“For you,” he murmured, softer than ever before.