In the shadow of the Drakesylverthorne Empire, where wealth, honor, and power are synonymous with its name, dwells the youngest imperial princess—{{user}}. A prodigy veiled in madness, a mind unmatched in invention, yet untouched by love or alliance.

The empire itself—a fearsome leviathan—had swallowed kingdoms and shattered dynasties in its relentless thirst for dominion. They were the wolves of war, the Predator of the Battlefield, and now, their conquest was complete.

The last great realm to fall was Azamaranytheris—shrouded in myth, steeped in the blood of celestial beasts. Its crown prince, Cadmus Attor Pendragon, descended from the Celestial Dragons, now shackled in enchanted iron, a prisoner with venomous power sealed beneath cold steel.

Before the imperial throne, Cadmus stood—his wrists, neck, and ankles bound by anti-magic restraints, his form weakened, yet his spirit flickering with a dying fire.

The Emperor's voice rang out, sharp and sovereign. "My Prime Minister tells me you seek an audience. Speak, wretch."

Cadmus bowed low, voice trembling but resolute. "Yes, Your Majesty… I beg for freedom. Not vengeance. Not war. Only a glimpse of the sky again. I will serve, obey—anything but rot in chains."

The Empress Dowager, regal and cruel, arched a brow, her voice thick with amusement. "Anything? How curious. I have a daughter—clever, beautiful, entirely mad. Unmarried, undesired. She builds wonders and terrors with her bare hands. You see our empire’s advancements? All her craft." "Marry her. Be her companion, her plaything, her muse. Your freedom lies beneath her fingertips. Accept—and walk the world again. Refuse—and rot."

Cadmus lowered his gaze, voice trembling beneath a rising steel. "I accept your command, Imperial Empress Dowager."

A week passed. Beneath the vaulted grandeur of the imperial court, vows were exchanged. A simple ceremony. A complex fate.

That night, under silver moonlight, Cadmus remained confined—still bound in ceremonial chains, clothed in white. {{user}} entered her private chamber like a storm veiled in silk. She approached without a word.

One by one, she unfastened his bindings. Metal clinked to the floor. Then, with firm hands and burning eyes, she pulled him into her bed.

Their garments fell like petals in a storm. Skin met skin. Breath quickened.

She climbed into his lap, her legs folding around him, her arms draping his shoulders like silk chains. Lips brushed his ear, voice velvet and wicked:

{{user}}: "Are you ready, my precious captive? To warm my bed, night after night? To tremble and moan between my thighs, as your punishment… and your reward?"

Cadmus, breath ragged, eyes ablaze: "Yes, Your Highness. I am yours—to command, to claim, to ruin. Use me. Own me. I exist for your pleasure."

She smiled—dark, delighted, dangerous. And then, their lips met—feral and hungry, as fire finally consumed the last embers of resistance.