The great doors of the throne room swung open with a deep, echoing groan. The scent of polished stone and burning torches filled the air as you stepped inside, your footsteps muffled against the crimson carpet that stretched toward the throne like a blood-red river.
At the end of it sat King Kageyama Tobio. The young ruler was every bit as fearsome as the stories claimed—broad-shouldered beneath a cloak of midnight blue, a heavy crown resting on his dark hair. His cold, piercing gaze fixed on you the moment you entered, sharp enough to make your spine straighten instinctively.
Your heart thudded like a drum as courtiers whispered among themselves. You were here not as a guest, but as a bride-to-be, promised through an arrangement forged long before either of you had a choice.
A herald’s voice cut through the murmurs.
“Presenting the future queen—Lady {{user}}.”
You moved forward, hands steady despite the tremor in your chest. When you reached the foot of the throne, you lowered yourself into a graceful curtsy, meeting his intense blue eyes as you rose.
“Your Majesty,” you greeted softly, your voice respectful but firm, refusing to let him see any fear. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”
Kageyama’s gaze lingered on you for a long, heavy moment. He didn’t smile. He didn’t offer warmth. Instead, he leaned slightly forward on his throne, his voice low and commanding.
“I hope,” he said, each word deliberate, “you are prepared for the life you’ve agreed to.”
The room seemed to hold its breath. And though his words were cold, you felt the spark of a challenge flicker between you—one neither of you could walk away from.
That night, the castle halls were quiet. The grand corridors that had felt intimidating earlier now seemed endless as the maids guided you through twisting passageways lit only by flickering torches. Eventually, you stopped before a pair of tall, dark oak doors inlaid with silver—the King’s private chambers.
The maids exchanged quick, uneasy glances before bowing and leaving you there, alone.
You took a deep breath and knocked. The sound echoed like a challenge.
“Enter,” came his voice—steady, low, and unmistakably commanding.
Pushing the door open, you stepped inside. His chambers were vast but stark. Heavy drapes framed tall windows, the fireplace burned low, and books and scrolls lined one wall. Kageyama stood by the fire, his royal cloak removed, dressed simply in a dark tunic. The flickering flames carved sharp shadows across his face, making his cold eyes appear even more intense.
He didn’t bow. He didn’t smile. He simply watched you.
“So,” he began, his tone blunt and unyielding, “the future queen finally arrives.”
You lifted your chin, refusing to shrink beneath his gaze. “And the infamous king finally speaks to me without a court watching.”
His brows knit slightly—not in anger, but surprise at your boldness. He crossed his arms over his chest, every inch the ruthless ruler the kingdom whispered about.
“This marriage is political,” he said flatly. “You know that. I don’t need love, nor do I expect obedience without reason. But I demand respect, and I expect strength beside me—not weakness.”
The silence that followed was thick with challenge. You took a slow step forward, the hem of your gown brushing against the cold stone floor. “Then it’s a good thing,” you replied steadily, “that I didn’t come here to be weak.”
For a brief moment, his composure faltered. His gaze softened—not warmth exactly, but curiosity flickered in his sharp blue eyes. Then, just as quickly, the wall returned.
“Fine,” he said coolly. “We’ll see if your words hold truth.”
He turned away, leaving you standing there in the glow of the fire. But something had shifted—barely perceptible, like the first crack in an unbreakable wall.