.
I stood in the vast garden, surrounded by the soft fragrance of countless blooming flowers. The air was cool and gentle, carrying the sweetness of petals that seemed to glow faintly under the night sky. Tall, perfectly maintained trees lined the pathways, their branches swaying slightly as if whispering secrets to the wind. Elegant stone benches were placed all around, adding to the quiet beauty of the place.
In the distance, a grand castle mansion stood tall and majestic, its towering structure bathed in the silver light of the moon. The night above was endless—filled with shimmering stars, watching silently over everything.
From inside the mansion, I could hear soft music and distant chatter.
Drawn by it, I slowly walked forward.
At the entrance stood a royal guard.
He wore an old-era uniform—deep crimson coat richly embroidered with gold patterns, sharp structured shoulders, and a high collar that framed his neck. A dark blue sash crossed his chest, secured with a polished silver emblem. His fitted trousers were tucked into knee-high black leather boots. In his hand, he held a long, gleaming sword with an intricately carved hilt.
His piercing blue eyes landed on me.
For a moment, he simply observed.
Then, without a word, he pushed the heavy gates open.
I stepped inside.
And everything changed.
A massive hall stretched before me—vast enough to hold a thousand people with ease. Golden chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, glowing like captured starlight, their crystals reflecting across the polished marble floor. The air was rich with music, laughter, and something deeper… something ancient.
Around a hundred people stood inside.
Young. Elegant. Royal.
And every single one of them…
Was wearing a mask.
My breath slowed.
The women stood like living royalty, dressed in magnificent gowns made of silk, velvet, and satin. Their dresses flowed in every color imaginable—deep crimson, royal purple, emerald green, sapphire blue, midnight black, ivory white, golden amber, blush pink, silver-grey, shimmering teal…
Their gowns were layered and full, with corseted waists, off-shoulder designs, lace sleeves, and delicate embroidery in gold and silver. Some had long, trailing trains that glided silently behind them.
But their beauty was hidden.
Each woman wore a finely crafted mask.
Some masks were delicate and adorned with jewels, shaped to fit gracefully over the face. Others were more intricate—designed with lace patterns, gold filigree, or smooth polished surfaces. They covered their features completely—forehead to chin—revealing nothing but their eyes.
Only their blue eyes could be seen.
Glowing softly under the chandelier light.
Then I looked at the men.
They wore princely attire—tailored coats in black and white, high collars, fine embroidery, and polished buttons. Their posture was straight, their presence powerful.
And just like the women—
They too wore masks.
Stronger in design, sharper in edges—crafted from dark metals, polished silver, or matte finishes. Their masks fully concealed their faces, giving them an unreadable, almost intimidating aura.
Only their eyes remained visible.
Soft music flowed through the hall, gentle and hypnotic.
Some men and women danced gracefully at the center, moving in perfect rhythm as if they had practiced for years. Others gathered along the sides, holding crystal glasses filled with deep red wine, their masked faces tilted toward one another in quiet conversation.
But even in the middle of it all—
I could feel eyes on me.
Watching.
Whispering.
I knew why.
My dress… it was different. Slightly more revealing than theirs—unusual for this era. My red hair fell freely over my shoulders, and my green eyes stood out sharply among their endless sea of blue.
And unlike them—
My face was completely visible.
I tried to walk casually, pretending not to notice the attention.
Before I could take more than a few steps, a guard approached me, carrying a large silver tray. On it rested several beautifully crafted masks.
He bowed slightly, offering one to me.
A silent message.
Wear it.
I exhaled softly and picked one.
Maybe this would help me blend in… even a little.
I placed the mask over my face.
It fit perfectly.
For the first time since entering, I felt… slightly hidden.
My eyes drifted upward, taking in the grand architecture—the towering walls, the intricate carvings, and the massive chandelier-like candles above. Dozens of flame-lit bulbs flickered like captured stars, casting a warm golden glow over everything.
The brightness… the luxury… it was overwhelming.
I smiled faintly to myself.
Well… I'm already here.
Why not enjoy it?
I walked toward the side, picked up a glass of wine, and sat down, slowly sipping it.
Even now—
I could feel their gazes.
I could hear them.
"Who is she…?"
"She is different."
"Which kingdom is she from?"
"She looks beautiful…"
"Should I ask her for a dance?"
I pretended not to hear, though a faint smirk touched my lips.
My dress was different. Slightly more revealing than theirs. My red hair fell freely, and my green eyes stood out among their endless blue.
And unlike them—
My face was completely visible.
A royal guard stepped in front of me, holding a silver tray filled with masks. Without a word, he offered one.
I took it.
Wore it.
It fit perfectly.
For the first time, I felt a little hidden… a little safer.
I glanced up at the grand ceiling—the massive candle-like chandeliers glowing warmly, lighting the entire hall like a golden dream.
Well… I'm already here.
Let's enjoy this.
I walked to the side, picked up a glass of wine, and took a slow sip.
Then another.
A soft warmth spread through me.
Light.
Comforting.
Maybe… a little too comforting.
I leaned back slightly, watching the dancers.
The music pulled at me.
"I want to dance…" I whispered.
This time, there was no hesitation.
No one knows me here.
I placed the glass aside and stepped onto the floor.
And I danced.
At first, slow… controlled.
Then freer.
Softer.
The wine made everything feel lighter, easier. My body moved naturally with the rhythm, my dress flowing with every turn.
I spun once… then again.
And that's when I noticed—
People were watching.
Not just watching.
Focused.
Some had stopped talking.
Some had turned completely toward me
As if they were seeing something new… something unfamiliar.
Something they had never seen before.
That only made me smile more.
I closed my eyes for a second and let myself go completely.
For a moment—
It felt perfect.
Silence.
Then the hall filled with applause.
Clear.
Loud.
Focused on me.
I could hear them again—
"That dance… it's unique."
"Is it from her kingdom?"
"I've never seen anything like it…"
"She moves differently…"
A small smile formed on my lips.
For a moment—
It felt perfect.
Then suddenly—
Silence.
The music stopped.
Abrupt.
The clapping died instantly.
My eyes opened.
A strange sound echoed through the hall.
Low.
Rough.
Wrong.
A chill ran down my spine.
Slowly—
I looked down.
Two creatures stood just a few steps away from me.
They looked like bulldogs—but twisted into something unnatural. Their bodies were deformed, muscles uneven, claws long and scraping against the marble floor.
Their jaws were wide.
Filled with jagged teeth.
And their eyes—
Glowing red.
Locked on me.
The crowd stepped back immediately, creating space around us. People looked at the creatures, then at me, their voices low but filled with fear.
"Why are beasts here…?" someone whispered.
"…Who are they here for?" another voice followed.
A pause.
"…Are those his beasts…?" someone said quietly.
No one spoke the name.
But everyone understood.
The crowd stepped back at once, fear clear in their movements. One by one, they created distance—until a wide empty space formed around me.
And suddenly…
I was the only one standing in the center.
My heartbeat started pounding, loud and heavy in my ears. I took a step back, then another, trying to steady myself.
The creatures followed.
Perfectly in sync.
A deep growl filled the air, low and threatening, making the silence feel suffocating.
All eyes turned to me now.
Not curious.
Afraid.
"Why do those beasts want her…?" someone whispered
"What did she do…?" another voice followed.
"…No one survives them."
"…Even God cannot save her now."
Their words hit harder than the fear itself.
Not one of them stepped forward.
Not one tried to help.
Only pity filled their eyes as they looked at me—like I was already gone.
Then suddenly—
One of the creatures barked.
Loud. Violent.
The sound echoed through the hall so sharply that several people dropped their wine glasses. The crash of shattering crystal broke the silence completely.
The second creature lowered its body, muscles tightening, ready to strike at any moment.
My breath caught in my throat.
I stepped back again.
But this time—
They moved faster.
Closer.
Hunting.
Their glowing red eyes stayed locked onto me as they closed the distance, their claws scraping against the marble floor with a chilling sound.
And in that moment, with everyone watching and no one stepping in, a terrifying realization settled deep inside me.
This wasn't random.
They weren't here by accident.
They had come—For me.
I looked across the entire hall, my eyes searching every face, but no one moved, no one stepped forward. My voice rose as I shouted, and without waiting for anything else, I turned and ran toward the stairs.
Before I could reach the other side, one of the beasts blocked my path. I froze for a split second, then quickly changed direction and ran the other way instead, breath sharp and uneven.
I entered a large private hall which was already open beyond—huge, quiet, and completely separate from the main crowd.
.
THE OTHER SIDE
Beyond the brilliance of the grand hall, where music and laughter thrived, a quieter corridor stretched into the private wing of the estate. The golden glow faded here, replaced by dim torchlight that flickered against cold stone walls.
Two men walked through the silence, their footsteps echoing softly.
The one ahead carried authority without effort.
"Have you found her?" he asked.
"No… I'm still searching," the other replied. "I've checked this entire place."
A brief silence followed.
"It has been a month," he said. "And you still have nothing?"
"I've searched beyond this estate," the other answered. "Other kingdoms, villages, markets… slave houses… even prisons."
He paused.
"And because of this… your enemies are increasing."
"Let them increase," he said coldly. "They are not my concern."
A step forward.
"She is."
Silence followed.
Then—
"The woman you describe…" the other said slowly, "she does not exist."
That was the moment.
He stopped.
Completely.
The air tightened.
Then—
He turned.
Torchlight fell across his face, revealing sharp features and a gaze that carried something far more dangerous than anger.
Say that again ....
Characters -
Isra -isak raven (main character -villian king)
Liam -assistant of isak raven and friend )
"Say that again, Liam," Isak repeated—slower this time.
The shift in tone was unmistakable.
Liam straightened, the teasing edge fading from his posture as quickly as it had come. "I said… she doesn't exist."
Silence stretched between them—thick, pressing, almost tangible.
Isak stepped closer.
Each movement was measured. Controlled. Deliberate.
His voice, when it came, was calm—but carried an undeniable weight. "You speak with certainty about something you've never seen."
Liam exhaled, steadying himself before answering. "I'm speaking from reality. There's no record. No witness. No kingdom that acknowledges what you're searching for." His gaze held firm. "Only you."
A pause.
Brief—but heavy.
Isak's voice lowered, quieter now… yet final. "She was real."
He didn't raise his tone.
He didn't need to.
The words settled between them like a command that refused to be questioned.
Liam's expression hardened as they resumed walking. "Isak, this isn't about her." His voice sharpened slightly. "You're avoiding the marriage alliance with the neighboring kingdom—and you're using this search as an excuse to delay it."
For a moment, the corridor seemed to close in around them.
Isak didn't respond immediately.
His steps slowed—just a fraction—but his presence remained steady, composed… untouchable.
Then, finally—
"Do you think I need a reason, Liam?"
The calmness in his voice made it worse.
Liam exhaled sharply, frustration slipping through despite himself. "You've even sent your… pets to search for her. Across territories." A faint scoff followed. "You're chasing something that isn't there."
Isak didn't break stride.
Didn't look at him.
"—Yes."
Just one word.
Simple. Certain.
Unshaken.
Silence followed again as the corridor opened ahead of them. The distant hum of music, laughter, and conversation drifted closer—the private section of the gathering now just steps away.
Then, without turning his head, Isak spoke once more—
"Now, let's go."
They entered the private hall of the other section.
The atmosphere shifted the moment they crossed the threshold.
The private hall ....
At the far end of the hall stood the throne—a grand, dark structure carved from black stone, its surface embedded with faint crystal details that caught and fractured the chandelier light. It didn't shine.
It absorbed.
Commanded.
Isak walked toward it without hesitation.
Each step echoed—measured, certain—until he reached the throne and sat, in one smooth, effortless motion. No announcement. No delay.
He didn't claim the seat.
He belonged to it.
Liam took his place beside him immediately, one step lower, hand resting near the hilt of his sword. Still. Alert. Unyielding.
Then—
as one—
the entire hall bowed.
"My King."
The words weren't loud.
They didn't need to be.
Respect carried through them. Fear followed close behind.
Isak said nothing.
He didn't acknowledge them immediately.
He simply sat there—silent, composed, his blue gaze sweeping the hall with quiet authority, his presence pressing down over the room like an unseen weight.
One by one, they rose.
Some returned to their seats carefully, movements controlled, cautious not to disturb the fragile stillness that had taken hold. Others remained standing, unsure.
No one spoke.
Not yet.
Because in that moment—
the hall belonged entirely to him.
_ _ _
Character -Adam (king of neighbour kingdom)/age 50
Siren- daughter of Adam /20
_ _ _
Adam stepped forward, bowing his head.
"My King… thank you for honoring this hall with your presence. I seek your answer… regarding marriage as my daughter is here.
A subtle shift moved through the room.
She stepped forward.
Siren.
Around twenty, draped in a flowing blue royal gown that trailed softly behind her. Her long blue hair fell like silk down her back, her eyes the same shade—sharp, piercing, and far too aware of themselves.
Beautiful.
But not soft.
There was tension in her posture—not weakness.
Control.
"I greet you, my King," she said, lowering her head briefly. When she rose, her gaze lifted to meet his. "I wish to discuss—"
"I decline the proposal."
Isak's voice cut through her words without force, yet it left no space for continuation. It was not loud, not sharp—simply final.
Only then did he look at Adam.
His eyes did not carry anger.
They carried judgment.
"For power," he said quietly, "you would offer your daughter to death."
The hall stilled further, as though even breath feared to move.
"Do you not love your child, Adam?"
The question was not raised.
It was placed—cold, deliberate, impossible to ignore.
Adam's expression tightened, but no words came.
Isak's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, then shifted away as though the matter had already lost value.
"Take your daughter," he said.
A pause.
"Leave."
No anger.
The hall had only just settled into its oppressive stillness when Adam stepped forward. His bow was exact, yet the strain in his posture could not be concealed.
"My King," he said, voice measured but firm, "I did not offer my daughter for power. This was not my design—she chose this of her own will."
That—
drew Isak's gaze.
Slowly, his eyes lifted and came to rest upon Siren. Blue, cold, and absolute. There was no curiosity in them, no trace of indulgence—
They demanded truth.
Siren felt it at once—the weight of him. It pressed against her chest, thinned her breath, unsettled the very instinct that told her to remain where she stood.
Still—
she did not retreat.
"I chose this, my King," she said, her voice controlled, though not untouched by strain.
"You chose me… for what reason?" he asked, his voice low, measured—devoid of interest, yet impossible to ignore.
Siren held his gaze, though the effort showed in the stillness of her breath. "Because you are not like the rest," and i admire you ...
Isak stepped down from where he stood and closed the distance between them without haste.
And again—
she stepped back.
It was slight.
But it was real.
His eyes did not miss it.
"Not like the rest," he said quietly, "but Your actions betray you."lady ....
Siren drew a measured breath, forcing composure back into her voice. "I require time," she said, quieter now, but deliberate. "I will not falter in this manner again. Given distance enough to understand you… I will stand without retreat."
Isak paused mid-step. He turned his head slightly, his gaze calm—yet precise enough to cut through the last of her control.
"You require time," he repeated, each word slow, considered, "to unlearn what your instincts already know."
Silence settled, heavy and unyielding.
Then—
his voice hardened.
"Remove her, Adam. I will not repeat myself."
Adam stepped forward immediately, tension drawn sharply across his features. "Siren. That is enough."
He reached for her—
She withdrew from his grasp, not in panic, but in refusal.
"I am the only one in this kingdom who has come to you without disguise," she said, her voice steady, though the strain beneath it remained. "The rest do not seek you—they seek what stands behind you. Power. Position. Advantage."
Isak did not answer.
His gaze shifted instead to Adam—cold, restrained, edged with quiet displeasure.
The silence was deliberate.
And it was cutting.
Siren stepped forward again, abandoning distance entirely.
"Then let it be judged," she said. "If any woman in this hall can stand before you—and not yield—I will withdraw without another word."
A pause.
Her breath tightened, but her voice did not.
"I ask nothing beyond that."
She held his gaze.
"If none can… then I will not step back. I will remain until I no longer fail to stand where I have chosen to stand."
Isak regarded her fully now.
For a moment—
nothing moved.
"If you were the last woman within this kingdom," he said at last, his tone even, stripped of all sentiment, "I would sooner remain unmarried for the rest of my life."
The words did not rise.
They settled.
Cold.
Final.
Then, without granting her another glance—
"Adam," he added, his voice sharpening with quiet authority, "have your daughter seen to. She appears… unwell."
A faint sound escaped Siren—too restrained to be laughter, too brittle to be dismissed as breath. It lingered for a moment before fading into the silence.
She turned from him.
Slowly.
Her gaze moved across the hall, deliberate, unhurried—resting upon each lowered head, each figure that had chosen silence over presence.
"Is there no one?" she asked, her voice measured, edged with something sharper beneath.
.
.A minute passed.
No one answered. No one moved. The silence held—complete, unbroken.
A faint smile touched her lips—small, controlled, almost hidden—as the truth settled in her favor.
She turned back to him.
"Look, my King," she said softly.
And then—
something strange happened.
The door opened, and Sky Frost stepped inside.
She paused just inside the hall, eyes moving quickly across the space—face by face, direction by direction—searching for someone she could rely on. No one noticed her. No one turned. The hall remained focused elsewhere.
Her breathing tightened.
Then her gaze stopped.
Blue eyes.
Isra.
She recognized him instantly just by his eyes. For a second she froze, like everything around her had stopped at that moment. Then panic broke through her voice.
"I… s… r… a!"
She ran.
Straight toward him.
Isra turned at the same time.
Isra ran from the opposite side at full speed. At the same time, Sky Frost ran toward him.
They met in the middle.
She crashed into him and hugged him tightly.
Isra immediately caught her at the waist and lifted her slightly in one controlled motion, turning to shield her from the danger behind them. His hold stayed firm, pulling her closer without hesitation.
Sky Frost clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, refusing to let go as her breath shook against his chest. Both her hands gripped his back and waist like he was the only thing keeping her steady in the chaos.
Her breathing was fast, uneven, trembling with fear.
Isra held her firmly—one hand at her waist, the other supporting her back. His grip was steady, protective, not letting her slip even an inch. His fingers moved once through her red hair, a brief grounding touch.
His breathing was sharp and heavy, still carrying the strain of the moment—like he had just pulled her out of danger in the last second.
The beasts barked in the distance again, and the sound made Sky Frost flinch. Her hold tightened instantly.
"I s… r a…" her voice came out soft, broken, almost pleading.
Isra didn't pause.
Isra reached her instantly, pulling her in with a stronger grip, as if he would not let even the smallest danger come near her.
"I'm here," he said immediately, close and firm. "You're safe."
For a moment, she finally managed to breathe.
Her head lifted slightly against his chest, still held securely in his arms. With that movement, her mask slipped further down, loosening completely.
.
Isra loosened his hold slightly, just enough to give her space.
Not distance in absence—distance in breath.
Both his hands stayed steady on her, but softer now, allowing her to lift her head without pressure.
Sky Frost slowly raised her face.
Isra bent slightly toward her at the same time, closing the distance just enough that she could see him clearly from close range—his blue eyes steady, focused only on her despite the chaos around them. His mask stayed in place, but his gaze didn't waver.
For a brief second, the world felt quieter than it should have been.
She was fully visible to him now—hair falling across her eyes, breath uneven, fear still lingering in her expression, but no longer only panic. There was awareness in her gaze. Presence. Him.
Isra looked at her directly.
He didn't break the hold around her—only steadied it, firm but gentle.
Everything around them seemed to fade again. His breath slowed slightly, focus narrowing until it was only her in front of him, even as the hall remained in chaos.
She tried to speak again, voice breaking. "I s… ra…"
Without hesitation, he reached out and brushed her hair aside once more, clearing her face so he could see her properly as the strands slipped back again.
"Breathe, Sky," he said low and steady. Not urgent. Not loud. Just certain.
Her hand lifted slowly and pressed against his chest, trying to anchor herself in his calm. But her strength wavered again—the shock, the running, the fear all catching up at once. Her vision blurred slightly.
"Th…ank you…" she whispered, softer this time, almost broken.
Then her body gave in a little more, collapsing forward into him.
Isra reacted instantly.
His arms tightened again—firm, controlled—pulling her back into a secure hold so she wouldn't fall. He kept her steady against him, grounding her completely as everything around them stayed unstable.
The chaos continued—but in his arms, she didn't fall.
Then Isra slowly lifted his gaze.
The entire hall was already watching.
Silence had spread in a heavy wave—broken only by faint whispers. Every person's attention was locked on Sky Frost, still in his arms, still clinging to him like she belonged there without permission from anyone else.
Confusion. Shock. Curiosity.
Everyone's eyes carried the same unspoken question—yet no one dared to voice it aloud.
Who is she?
Not just because she stood close to him… but because she had done what no one else ever did.
She didn't fear him.
She didn't bow to his name.
Isak Raven.
She had approached him differently—called him in a shorter way, spoken it like it belonged to her tongue without hesitation. She had looked into his eyes, touched him, held onto him, and spoken to him with a kind of softness that didn't belong in a hall like this… as if he was not a ruler, but someone she trusted without condition.
It wasn't just courage.
It was something else entirely.
Siren finally stepped forward, her voice cutting through the silence.
"Who is she?"
Isra didn't answer immediately.
His hold on Sky Frost remained firm, controlled—subtly drawing her closer, shielding her from the weight of every gaze pressing into them.
A brief pause.
Then he spoke, calm and direct.
"Someone I will marry."
The words fell into the hall like a sudden fracture in control.
A ripple of murmurs spread instantly.
Siren's expression tightened, but she said nothing.
From the side, Liam returned after handling the dog, glancing at Isra before speaking briefly.
"Let's go."
Isra didn't look away from the crowd immediately.
For a moment longer, he stood there—still holding Sky Frost close—before finally turning away, taking her out of the center of every staring gaze without loosening his grip.
Outside, the corridor was quieter. The noise of the gathering faded behind them.
Liam walked beside him at an easy pace.
"So you finally found her," Liam said.
Isak glanced at him briefly. "I told you already."
Liam's gaze shifted forward. "She's really beautiful… like she doesn't belong here."
Isak didn't respond immediately. A brief, restrained exhale escaped him—almost a laugh, but controlled. He simply answered, "Hmm."
Liam continued, more serious now. "You were right about everything."
He stopped walking.
"Yes, Mr. Liam. I was."
Liam nodded slightly. "By the way, she's a very courageous woman. This is only your second meeting with her, but it feels like she's more than that. She doesn't seem to fear you . And her presence… it's different. Even her dress."
A pause.
Then he asked, quieter, "How much does she know about you?"
Isak's voice remained steady. "She doesn't know me."
Liam's eyes narrowed slightly. "Still, she trusted you. She ran to you the moment she was in danger."
"I don't know," Isak replied. "Every time I meet her, it happens the same way."