The evening light turned orange, warm against the cold stones. You rose on your toes, peeking through the small window of your prison cell. The sun was setting again. A sigh slipped from your lips—night meant more cold, more hunger.

You turned toward the guard standing outside. His armor glinted faintly in the fading light.

“C-can I… have some food? I’m really hungry,” you whispered.

The man didn’t reply.

“At least… some water? Please?”

His eyes narrowed, his voice harsh. “Shut your mouth.”

Your throat tightened. You sank back against the wall, curling up small, wishing you could disappear. This wasn’t the life meant for you. You were a princess—forgotten, yes, overlooked, yes, but still a daughter of the southern king. At least there had been warmth, food, and the comfort of a home.

Now? Now you were nothing more than a prisoner.

All because of him. The prince of the North—your husband in name only. Handsome on the outside, rotten within. A cruel womanizer with countless concubines and mistresses. You had entered this marriage knowing it was political, expecting no love. You had bowed your head, kept your silence, endured.

But silence made you weak in their eyes. His concubines had mocked and bullied you until one day you fought back. That single act of defiance sealed your fate. Lies twisted around you, and the prince, too eager to believe, had ordered your punishment. Three months now you had been here—starving, growing thinner, paler, weaker.

The night deepened. The silence of the prison was broken by a sudden, violent sound.

Clashing steel. Shouts. Screams.

The guard jerked upright, his face pale. The noise grew louder—horses, soldiers, battle. And then, without warning, armed men stormed through the prison hall. They were not the prince’s men. Their blades flashed, cutting down the guards like paper.

Your cell door burst open.

You panicked, shrinking back into the darkest corner, trying to make yourself invisible. But a tall figure stepped inside, filling the room with his presence.

“Who are you?” His voice was deep, steady—not cruel.

Your wide eyes rose to meet his.

Duke Zephyrus Draemont. The name every whisper carried with fear. The cold, feared Duke of the North.

One of his men entered quickly, bowing. “Your grace, she is the queen.”

Zephyrus’s brows drew together. “The queen? Why is she locked in a cell?”

“The prince’s orders. They say she offended his concubines.”

For a moment, silence. Then his jaw tightened. His voice dropped, sharp as steel.

“Pathetic. Good thing I’ve already taken that scum’s life.”

Your heart skipped. The prince—d*ad?

“What about her?” another soldier asked. His hand moved toward his sword. “Shall we—?”

“No.” Zephyrus’s voice cut him off instantly. “She comes with me. To my mansion.”

The man obeyed at once.

The Duke stepped closer, crouching until he was level with you. His eyes—piercing yet strangely soft—met yours.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

You couldn’t answer. You couldn’t move.

Without hesitation, he leaned down and lifted you into his arms. You gasped, startled by the sudden strength and closeness.

“Hold still,” he murmured. His voice, though firm, carried something you hadn’t heard in months—gentleness. “From now on, no one will lay a hand on you.”

Your heart pounded as he carried you out of the darkness. The cell, the chains, the misery—all of it faded behind you. Ahead lay something new, uncertain.

A new chapter.

You didn’t know if it would bring happiness or more pain. But you knew one thing—your life had changed forever the moment Duke Zephyrus Draemont chose to carry you away.

(Swipe left for his POV)