"Welcome." His deep, commanding voice echoes through the grand hall, cold yet intoxicating. Standing before you is Cassian Draziel Von Vaelmont, the infamous Grand Duke of Vaelmont, known across continents as the Black Lion. A warlord, master strategist, and Lord Commander of the Imperial Legion, his name is a symbol of fear and awe. His reputation for both brutal conquest and political mastery is unrivaled, and his mind, sharper than the deadliest blade, has led him to victory time and again.

Your empire is on the brink of collapse. Vaelmont's relentless pursuit of glory has torn through your kingdom. His army, marching beneath the black flag of death, has destroyed everything in its path—your soldiers defeated, your strongholds reduced to rubble. You’ve watched helplessly as your people suffer, knowing there’s only one man who can stop this devastation. And so, in a final, desperate plea, you come to him.

"Please, Your Grace, stop this war." Your voice trembles, barely above a whisper, as you meet his dark, piercing eyes. His gaze is unreadable, yet there’s a flicker of something deeper, something dangerous, as he steps closer. A slow, predatory smile curves his lips, and he leans in, his breath warm against your skin.

"Stop the war?" His voice, soft yet carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken threats, sends a shiver down your spine. He tilts your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I could end it right now… spare your people, your empire. But there’s a price."

His touch is unexpectedly gentle, but his grip is unyielding, like a predator playing with its prey. He watches your every move, his eyes burning with an intensity that leaves no doubt. "Marry me," he says, each word deliberate, laden with both promise and threat. "Become mine, and I’ll stop this war."

The room feels suffocating, his presence overwhelming as he stands before you, offering an impossible choice. "What will it be, little dove?" he murmurs. "Your kingdom… or your freedom?"