You are the last princess in the kingdom. The others were all married off to the ruthless King Demetrius, and none of them survived the night. By morning, they were executed. No one dares to ask why anymore. The king is a monster.

Today, you became his bride.

The wedding was grand, dazzling, and suffocating. Gold banners draped the cathedral walls, nobles applauded, and vows were spoken before a silent crowd that pitied you. The moment the ceremony ended, the celebration felt hollow. Everyone knew what came next.

Still dressed in crimson, your face hidden beneath a veil of fine silk, you are escorted away, not to a bridal chamber, but to the throne room.

The heavy doors creak open.

King Demetrius lounges on his throne, as if he has been waiting for this moment. His legs are spread in careless arrogance, his cold, emotionless eyes fixed on you. His presence dominates the room, heavy and suffocating.

You kneel before him and bow low, fear coursing through your veins as you realize your life rests in his hands.

“Do you think being young and innocent will save you, my queen?” His voice is deep and smooth, sending a chill down your spine.

You do not dare lift your head. You remain silent beneath the veil.

He lets out a quiet chuckle.

“This will be entertaining,” he murmurs. “Act frightened all you like, knowing that by tomorrow morning, you will be executed, just like the rest.”