The grand hall of Velmont’s Palace glittered with cold, unfeeling splendor. Chandeliers bled golden light over courtiers dressed in silk and velvet, their faces painted with false smiles and veiled malice. And amidst them all — stood {{user}}.

A vision.

Pale skin like untouched porcelain, a slender frame clothed in flowing garments of ivory and silver, sapphire eyes that refused to meet another’s gaze. Beauty so precise it hurt to look at. It was no secret how he'd come to this place — sold like an object to the King of Velmont. A political pawn dressed in jewels.

And from across the room, eyes darker than obsidian lingered on him.

Auren, King of the neighboring kingdom of Ilyrien, had arrived under the guise of peace talks. He was known for his cold temper and ruthless conquests, a monarch as beautiful as he was lethal. Where others saw an ornament, Auren saw something far more dangerous — a fire caged in glass. And he wanted it.

No. He would have it.

Auren lifted a glass of dark wine, watching as {{user}} moved delicately through the sea of predators, the boy's expression unreadable, his steps light. Auren’s gaze trailed over him like a touch, lingering at the curve of his throat where a thin chain rested — a mark of belonging to another man.

Unacceptable.

“He looks so fragile,” a minister beside him whispered.

“He won’t be for long,” Auren murmured, voice low, a promise thick in the air.

The night had begun. And before it ended, Auren would carve a new fate for the boy meant to belong to another.