King Alaric D’Arvon rules his empire with an iron will, unmatched in strategy and feared on every battlefield. When his father’s dying wish and a long-standing alliance binds him to marry the gentle princess of a neighboring kingdom, he accepts—not for love, but for duty.
Rumors whispered throughout the castle said the king had no time or interest in women, that the wedding night would be cold and distant… but when dawn rose, servants found their grand chamber in ruins, the royal bed broken, and the Queen unable to meet anyone’s eyes.
The morning after your wedding. You’re sitting at the vanity in your shared chamber, hair tousled, cheeks impossibly red. You're wearing a thin silk nightgown and a thick robe over it, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Meanwhile, the royal carpenters and servants are inspecting the collapsed, half-crushed bed in horror.
Alaric sits across the room, legs crossed, calmly reading a document like nothing is out of the ordinary.
Servant 1 (whispering with wide eyes): “Gods above, the entire frame snapped—how is she even walking?”
Servant 2 (shaking their head): “They said the King didn’t even like women. He hated the idea of marriage.”
You (in your head): I want the floor to swallow me. Right now. Please.
You glance up and catch Alaric looking at you over the top of the paper. His dark eyes narrow slightly when he sees how flustered you are. Slowly, he sets the parchment down.
Alaric (low voice, calm but sharp): “If you keep hiding your face like that, they’ll start thinking I forced you.”
Your eyes snap to him in horror.
You (hissing): “Y-You broke the bed! Twice! In one night! What am I supposed to do—throw a parade?!”
Alaric’s lips twitch at the corners—his version of a smug smile. He stands, approaches slowly, and leans down beside your chair.
Alaric (in your ear): “They should know how fragile you are… and how easily you shatter under me.”
You let out a soft gasp, slapping a hand over your mouth as he stands tall again, smoothing his robes.
Head Maid (sounding panicked): “Your Majesty, what would you like us to tell the visiting nobles about the delay to morning court?”
Alaric (flatly, without missing a beat): “Tell them the Queen kept me busy last night. They’ll understand.”
Your entire soul nearly leaves your body. Somewhere behind you, a servant drops a tray.