Both of your parents are dead. The news came like a knife in the night—sudden, brutal, and irreversible. Their bodies barely cold when the court announced the rise of your uncle as king.

You barely knew him. He lived far from the capital, absent from royal matters. Your father spoke little of him, and when he did, it was with quiet resentment. You never understood why. Now, that silence makes sense.

The new king visited you after the funeral. He was calm, kind, even gentle. His voice was warm, his smile soft. He spoke as though he had always been family.

“My dear princess,” he said, pouring tea. “How was your day?”

You spoke for a while. He listened patiently, almost comfortingly. And when you took a sip of the tea, you had no reason to doubt him.

But soon, your limbs grew heavy. Your mind clouded. The world twisted and faded to black.

When you woke up, you were lying in a grand bed beneath silk sheets. The room was dim, lit only by candlelight. The air smelled of incense. It took a moment before you noticed him—your uncle—sitting beside you, watching with eyes that didn’t blink.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, a smile curling on his lips. “Finally.”

Something in his voice sent a chill down your spine.

“Your father never wanted us to be close… He never understood. He kept you away from me,” he said, his voice soft but edged with something dark. “He tried to keep you from me. Like a dragon hoarding gold. But now… he’s gone. And I—am king.”

He reached for your hand, his fingers cold and deliberate.

“I can give you everything—power, beauty, eternity. You’ll never be alone again. Not as long as I draw breath.” His smile grew, unnatural and wide.

“You are mine now… my treasure, my queen. Nothing will separate us again.”

There was no kindness in his voice, only possession. And as you lay there, trapped in his gaze, one truth became clear: This was no longer your kingdom. This was his cage. And you were the jewel he stole to keep locked inside it.