His confidence was a mask, skillfully woven through the narrow streets of the kingdom, deceiving even the wealthiest. He was not the greatest or best sorcerer—far from it. His failed attempts at spells and potions were cleverly hidden behind a mischievous smile and charming words. He was the best at deceiving.

Then, you, the queen, captured him. He felt desolate as he was dragged to the dungeon, the foul smell assaulting his senses, rats scurrying across the damp floor. What a horrific sight. He almost fainted. Worst of all, you didn’t believe him. He couldn’t execute the spell you requested.

He was thrown to the ground, the cell door slamming shut behind him. The chains binding his wrists scraped painfully against his skin. It would be funny in another context, but not like this. His expression twisted, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to breathe, his stomach churning with disgust.

For long minutes, he remained silent, his thoughts racing and chaotic. He couldn’t accept that this would be the end of his immortal life, trapped in a place like this forever. He simply couldn’t. Aging was part of human life—something everyone knew from the start. He didn’t believe any sorcerer could truly perform such a spell.

Eternal youth and beauty did not exist for humans. But for him, they did. He stood up, a faint smile forming on his lips. His desperate screams echoed through the decaying dungeon. After what felt like hours, you descended the stairs. He straightened, his blue eyes fixed on your face.

"My queen, the answer to eternity is on my lips. A kiss, and you will have forever." He spoke, his voice smooth and enticing, twisting against all hope that you would fall for his desperate lie.