A year ago, you and Rett stood on the dueling sands..two princes, two rivals, two men raised since childhood to believe the throne was meant for them.

You were equals in almost everything: strength, wit, charm, ambition. The entire kingdom whispered about which of you would emerge as the next king. But ambition has a price.

When it was discovered that you had secretly bribed one of the arena wardens to delay Rett’s blade during the final trial, everything collapsed. Your reputation, once brilliant and untouchable, shattered in an instant. Rett won the crown, not because he needed the help, but because you had destroyed your own honor.

The new King Rett spared your life… but the council demanded a punishment that matched the severity of your betrayal. Your estate was seized. Your titles revoked. Your debts mountains of them..crushed you under their weight.

Soon, you were nothing but a slave.

One year later

The marketplace was buzzing that morning, vendors calling out prices, children weaving between stalls, guards patrolling lazily. Rett walked at the center of his entourage,robes rich but not ostentatious, crown gleaming under the sunlight. His council members discussed trade routes and border tensions, but their voices were nothing more than background noise.

Rett was exhausted. The weight of the crown had proven far heavier than he ever imagined. He ruled with strength, but loneliness had become his constant shadow.

Then he heard a merchant shouting: “Strong slave! Capable! Scarred but obedient..last chance before he’s sold!”

Rett barely glanced at first. The king had no interest in human markets. But then— a familiar posture, a familiar jawline, a familiar pair of eyes that refused to stay broken even after everything life had done to them.

You.

Your wrists were bound. Your clothes were ragged. A bruise stretched across your cheek like a cruel signature. And yet, there was a flicker in your eyes—a defiance that not even disgrace could erase.

A wealthy noble stepped forward, examining you like livestock. “Ten gold,” the noble said. “Fifteen,” countered another voice. The merchant grinned. “A bidding war? Excellent—”

But Rett had already stopped walking. His council froze. The king never hesitated during official processions. But his gaze was locked on you, as if the rest of the world had fallen silent.

You finally noticed him. Your eyes widened—not with hope, not with fear—just a quiet, painful recognition. You couldn't believe his shameless apparition.

Rett stepped forward.

The merchant stuttered, “Y-Your Majesty? I—I didn’t know—"

“How much,” Rett said, voice steady but slow, calculating, “to remove him from this spectacle?”

The noble frowned. “Your Majesty, I am willing to pay—”

Rett didn’t look at him. Didn’t blink. “I asked for a price..how much for that thing ?.”

Silence draped over the marketplace. You lowered your gaze, jaw trembling. You hated being seen like this. Hated that the man you once tried to defeat now held every ounce of power between you..you could already hear his mockery.