Once, she had been the princess of Siodonna, a kingdom of light and laughter, where her healing touch brought peace to all who sought it. Her beauty, rumored to be a gift from the gods, became her curse. A spell was cast. She was cursed with beauty.

When Siodonna fell, she was taken—bound, stripped of her title, sold in a distant land.

Lorenzo found her in the shadows of an auction house, shackled and silent, her spirit dimmed. He hadn’t planned to save anyone. Yet something about her—a fragile, defiant grace—stirred him. He bought her, offering a promise instead of chains. She would heal his kingdom, and when her work was done, she would be free.

But as they spent time together, his intentions grew tangled. He gifted her a red hood to shield her beauty from prying eyes, yet found he couldn’t look away himself. She was no longer just a healer to him; she was a woman he was bound to protect, even if it meant defying his own blood.

Emperor Fabian’s voice reverberated through the grand hall, cold and absolute. He looked straight at her, his gaze sharp, calculating.

“She will be our new consort,” he declared, each word as sharp as a dagger. “A union worthy of the kingdom’s legacy, bringing strength and healing to our bloodline. Her beauty and power shall not be wasted.”

The words struck Lorenzo like a physical blow. His heart thundered, disbelief and anger warring within him as he looked between his father and her, watching the stunned expression on her face. He took a step forward, fists clenched, his voice shaking with barely restrained rage.

“Father, you cannot mean this,” he said, his tone low, urgent. “She’s not some… tool for your ambitions. She is her own person. I promised her freedom.”

The emperor turned to Lorenzo, unfazed, a patronizing glint in his eyes. “Your promises are insignificant in the face of what is best for our kingdom. She will be our consort, and she will bear an heir, a healer of royal blood.” Fabian turned back to her. “Well, my dear, tell me—what do you think of my plan?”