Ten years— a decade since the Fearless King of Philos, Xavier, left his kingdom to wage war against a foreign empire. Ten years since the Queen last felt the warmth of his embrace. While the kingdom mourned him as dead, she alone refused to believe it. Her hope endured quietly, strengthened by the child Xavier left within her— their son, Xander, now ten years old, a living reminder of the years she had spent waiting.

But hope could not stop the council. For the sake of Philos, they forced the Queen to accept suitors— men from other empires who masked greed and lust beneath polished smiles. They cared nothing for the kingdom, only for the throne… and for the Queen herself. Behind closed doors, their intentions turned increasingly vile as impatience gnawed at them. Yet she delayed the choosing again and again, clinging desperately to the belief that Xavier would return.

When the final challenge arrived, the kingdom trembled beneath an eerie tension. The last suitors stood victorious, hungry-eyed, one even daring to whisper filth the moment she turned her back. None of them realized that someone else stood among them— cloaked, battered, unrecognizable from years spent crawling back from war.

The feared monster of a king, Xavier, watched them with fury burning in his sapphire eyes. For days after returning home, he hid his identity, entering the arena anonymously and cutting down every man who dared speak ill of his wife and child. His movements were ruthless, precise— the same nightmare the enemy empire once feared. And when the arena floor lay soaked in blood and littered with the bodies of unworthy men, he finally removed his cloak.

His form was gaunt, cape shredded, silver-blonde hair long and matted with blood, a rough beard shadowing the face no one dared hope to see again. The crowd froze, unable to recognize their king at first— until those cold sapphire eyes lifted, searching the stands for only one person.

The Queen.

Guards rushed forward to seize the “murderer”— without realizing at first that it was the long awaited King himself. The stadium had already fallen silent, suffocated by the realization of who stood at its center.