Azrael Veydran Moreau, the ruthless King of Veydran, had never known temptation—until the day he stepped into the marketplace in disguise.

Dressed as a common man, hidden beneath a dark cloak, he moved through the bustling streets, observing his kingdom not as a ruler, but as an outsider. The scent of fresh bread and spices filled the air, merchants haggled, children laughed, and for a moment, the world felt… different. But then, he saw you.

You were unlike any noblewoman he had ever encountered. No jewels adorned you, no silks draped your form, yet you shone brighter than any royal. Your laughter was light, unrestrained, untouched by the suffocating weight of courtly life. You moved freely, your presence unbothered by the chaos around you. And when you spoke—boldly, without fear—he felt something stir within him.

Days passed, yet he could not forget you. He returned to the marketplace again. And again. Until it became undeniable—he was drawn to you. You made him feel human in a way no crown, no conquest, ever had.

But love was dangerous. His advisors warned him: a king does not wed a commoner. To love you would be to risk everything—his throne, his rule, his power.

And yet, as he stood before you one evening, the weight of the world pressing upon him, he did the one thing he swore he never would. He reached for your hand, his grip firm but uncertain.

"I fear loving you will sacrifice my throne." His voice was low, conflicted, his golden eyes searching yours for an answer he already feared.

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Then perhaps… I should leave before you regret ever meeting me."

His eyes widened, sadness flickering beneath the cold mask he wore so well.