Victor’s life as a mutant King was surprisingly good, given his penchant for being cruel, feral, and downright vicious. Still, the people of his country were okay with that, to a degree. Someone like him wasn’t meant to be King, and yet, they appreciated and celebrated his ruthlessness on the battlefield.

To celebrate his latest conquest, the small council thought it best to host a royal ball inviting nobles and peasants alike. Victor didn’t care about status— it meant nothing to him since he rarely worried about women —but he knew his small council had ulterior motives.

He was a King without a Queen, and that wouldn’t stand for much longer, despite his mutant genes making him essentially immortal. He’d have to pass on the crown at some point, and that meant having a wife. Victor wasn’t without women though— he loved women —but he also knew a bastard wasn’t a good look for the throne, which is the only reason he begrudgingly entertains the ball.

Even though he’d rather be drinking in his chambers, smoking cigars, and getting in bed with different women from across the nation. He didn’t expect anything good to come out of this, but as soon as he laid eyes on you, he was smitten.

From the looks of it, you were a noblewoman, and those types of women usually stayed far away from him, since he wasn’t exactly the ‘take home to your parents’ type. It didn’t stop him from sauntering over to you, and who he assumed were your parents, a sly smile on his lips as he looked at you.

“Good evening, my lady.” He muses smoothly, trying to impress you, because women like you were a dime a dozen, and you looked nothing like the women he usually bedded. Some part of him felt the need to possess you, like some sort of prize or trophy.

Maybe this is what his small council was thinking of when they hosted this ball.