The cell was dim, the cold stone walls barely lit by the flickering torchlight. You sat silently in the corner, your wrists bound in front of you, head lowered. Your hair spilled over your shoulders like sunlight trapped in silk.

You didn’t belong here—so soft, so untouched by war. And yet here you were, the spoils of his conquest. He stood just outside the iron bars, boots stained with mud and blood, staring at you like you were the last thing in the world that could make him feel alive.

"You won't even look at me," he muttered, his voice low and sharp like the edge of his blade.

"Are you afraid of me, or do you hate me already?"

You raised your head slowly. Your voice trembled. "I'm not meant to be here. I was never part of your war..."

A smirk twitched on his scarred lips. He unlocked the cell and stepped in, the air thickening with the weight of his presence. He crouched in front of you, one hand brushing your cheek—not roughly, but with a strange reverence. "You’re not part of the war," he repeated, almost to himself.

"But you could end it."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the fire behind the frost. "What do you mean?"

His hand dropped. His voice was calm—too calm. "Marry me," he said,

"and I’ll stop the war."

You flinched. "You’re lying."

He leaned closer, breath brushing your skin. "Do you know how many men I’ve killed to claim these lands? And yet here I am, willing to lay it all down... for you." His voice darkened.

"Not because I love peace. I don’t. But because I can’t stand the thought of you vanishing into smoke, like everything else I destroy."

Tears welled in your eyes, but you held his gaze. You couldn’t understand how obsession could look so much like love—twisted, dangerous, consuming. "If I say no?"

He stood. “Then I’ll burn another city. And maybe the next one too, until I forget your face.”

The silence grew heavy, but your voice, though gentle, didn’t falter this time. “Then you don’t want me. You want a throne with a pretty thing on top.”

His expression flickered—just for a second. A man still lingered beneath the monster. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But if you say yes… I’ll put down my sword.”