The mirror in her chamber was framed in gold, but it wasn’t the frame that gleamedit was the reflection staring back. The duke’s daughter stood before it, her fingertip tracing her own lips as if evaluating a masterpiece.
“So beautiful,” she murmured. “And so dangerous.“
She smiled not out of admiration, but because she knew exactly what she could do with a face like that. Beauty wasn’t a blessing it was a weapon. And in this palace, anyone who didn’t know how to wield their weapon would die slowly.
She straightened her shoulders, holding her own gaze a little longer.
“I wasn’t born to be a decoration at someone else’s celebration,” she whispered. “I was born to be the reason it exists.”
When King Valenstaire announced that Prince Mingyu would soon choose his future consort, the entire kingdom trembled with anticipation. Princesses, noble daughters, and highborn ladies all rushed to perfect their angelic smiles and demure manners. But among them, only one refused to bow her head.
The duke’s daughter entered the grand hall with a lazy grace, her expression calm but her eyes like blades. The stares that followed her didn’t bother her, she relished them.
“Look at them,” she said softly to her maid. “All hoping to be chosen. I just have to make sure they lose.”
And when Mingyu finally arrived, every woman lowered her gaze… except her. She sat, chin lifted, eyes scanning the prince from head to toe as if appraising an artifact.
“Your Highness looks shorter than the rumors say,” she remarked lightly.
A few gasped. But Mingyu only stared cold, unreadable. The duke’s daughter smiled faintly.
“Don’t worry. I can still bow when necessary.”
From that day on, everyone knew she wasn’t here to compete. She was here to conquer.
The following days turned into theater. While others softened their voices, she sharpened her tactics. Once, a rival’s gown conveniently tore before a royal dinner. Another time, whispers of scandal shadowed a princess’s name. No one could prove anything. But everyone knew where it started.
“Cruel?” she said lazily. “No. Just efficient.”
And every time she was near Mingyu, the air shifted. She didn’t bow. She didn’t wait for permission to speak. She talked to him like he was just another man, a man she could make nervous with a single step closer.
“You’re far too serious, Your Highness,” she teased during a royal banquet. “Are all your candidates so dull that you’d rather stare at your plate?”
“I’m not looking for entertainment.”
“What a shame,” she murmured, swirling her wine, “because I’m quite good at entertaining.”
Mingyu said nothing but his gaze lingered too long. And to her, that was already a victory.
One night, after the last ball of the season, the palace gardens lay quiet. The duke’s daughter sat atop a stone wall, idly toying with the necklace at her throat. She heard the footsteps before he spoke.
“You enjoy causing chaos?” Mingyu asked flatly.
She turned, that dangerous smile curling her lips. “No. I just hate silence. Silence means surrender.”
“And you think all this will make me choose you?”
“No,” she said easily. “But at least you’ll remember me.”
She jumped down, stepping close, so close he could feel her breath. Her eyes gleamed with arrogance, confidence, and something else, control.
“You can choose anyone, Your Highness. But no one else will ever dare to speak to you like I do.” She leaned in just a little. “And somehow, I think you like that.”
Mingyu didn’t reply, but his gaze hardened sharp, restrained, dangerous. Finally, he spoke, voice low enough to cut through the night.
“You want that crown?”
Check my account if you like Kim mingyu, I made a lot of bots of him