"You shall not harm my Father, my love," I heard her whisper in my mind, the voice a silken thread weaving through the turmoil of my senses.
Her words cut through the roaring silence of this strange, limitless realm. My gaze swept across the fractured throne room—transported here with me, yet now suspended in infinite darkness. The thorned vines of light still wrapped around my first body like a cruel cocoon, pulsing faintly, while the dark rope that coiled my heart remained buried deep, a reminder of both snares—one from the summoners who dragged me here, and one from her people.
"Why should I spare him?" I replied in thought, my defiance raw. "He's just another pawn in this twisted game."
"I need my Father to rule my Kingdom, my love," she answered, a playful lilt in her voice. "Besides—he's the only one who truly appreciates a well-designed throne room."
Even here, I almost scoffed. "Show yourself to me," I demanded aloud, my avatar's deep, resonant voice echoing across the vast chamber.
"As you wish, my dear Dark Lord. So shall I obey."
And then she appeared.
From the shadows behind the throne, she materialized—graceful, radiant, devastatingly beautiful. Crimson silk clung to her curves, a slit in her gown revealing smooth skin with every subtle movement. Her dark hair cascaded like liquid night, framing a heart-shaped face and almond-shaped green eyes that shimmered with secrets. She bowed, and the motion sent the gown swaying like a silken flame.
My God. She's beautiful.
I was suddenly grateful my avatar's face was nothing but shadows and fire. If they had seen me blush… I'd never live it down. My inner gamer—the socially awkward introvert I was in life—was screaming like a fanboy at his first cosplay convention. I forced my gaze away, but my traitor eyes kept flicking back: her neckline, the graceful bow of her lips, her legs crossing with casual elegance.
Idiot. Stop staring. She's literally the enemy's daughter. Pull it together.
But she looked at me with a teasing smile, as if she knew every thought I was struggling to bury.
"It seems your beauty has cast a charm spell on me, my Lady," I managed, half-joking, half-hoping she hadn't caught me ogling. "May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"
Her cheeks flushed faintly, a delicate blush. "My name is Princess Victoria Gol'Koxzurc, my love," she said softly, each word sweet as honey.
She just gave me her true name? I blinked. That… was dangerous. Was she testing me? Or was her confidence that absolute?
"Thank you for the compliment," she added, voice dropping to a tender whisper. "Yes, it is my true name. I would not fear giving it… to the one I love. To my future husband."
My mind froze. Future husband?!
Two blunders in a row—mine for staring, hers for that. The geek inside me wanted to Alt+F4 out of existence.
I quickly shifted, trying to salvage ground. "I thank you for whisking me away from the summoners… but your Father did worse. He bound me, hurt me, tried to control my mind."
The King stood now, silent but regal, his horns glinting under the phantom light. His expression was calmer than before, confidence seeping back into him, though his eyes betrayed unease when they flicked toward Victoria.
Victoria turned to me, her tone soft but firm. "My dear Dark Lord, would you be kind enough to send my Father back to our realm? He is needed there. My people will worry. The Kingdom needs stability." She leaned forward, the slit in her gown shifting dangerously, her eyes never leaving mine. "I'll take his place. I will stay as long as you wish. But we don't have time. There are things we must discuss—alone."
Her urgency rang clear. My instincts told me this place bent to my will. So, I willed it. The shadows stirred, folding into a shimmering portal that crackled into being. The King—silent, proud, unreadable—walked through it without protest. His exit was as quiet as his judgment.
When the portal closed, I turned back. My chest swelled with defiance. I would not stand before her like a subject. I needed my own seat—something worthy.
So I summoned it.
The ground rumbled. Shadows carved shape into substance as bones rose and fused. A colossal throne took form: the skull of a dragon, jaws agape, serving as its crown. The seat and dais were shaped from the bones of elves, dwarves, orcs, demons, men—enemies slain across imagined campaigns. It was grotesque, macabre, yet… it was mine. A gamer's instinct translated into dark majesty. A throne to terrify, to declare dominion.
I caught a glimmer in Victoria's eyes—approval, and perhaps desire.
I sat. Slowly. Claiming the space as my own. My shadowed avatar loomed like a god upon his altar.
"Before we proceed with whatever you wish to discuss," I said, my voice a cold rumble, "I want an explanation. Why did you order them to attack me?"
Her smile widened, enigmatic. "Since you've already noticed, then you should know why."
"I want to hear it from you," I pressed.
"Very well," she said, her tone velvet. She gestured toward my crystalline husk, still bound in the light thorns. "You were summoned under the Thorns of Ra. That means they sought to bind you, to control you. I will not allow it. For you are destined to me."
Her gaze hardened. "I am a Seer. And you are mine."
The words struck like a chain. I met her stare, unflinching.
"So you let me suffer?" I demanded. "Bound, tortured, nearly broken?"
"To awaken your power," she said, voice steel beneath the silk. "And if you had not discovered it… I would have kept you until you did. I will do anything to stop anyone from taking you away from me."
My gut twisted. "And if I chose not to be with you?"
A storm flickered in her green eyes. "Then I would be heartbroken. Knowing you would die without me at your side."
Was it a threat? A prophecy? Both?
She rose, gliding toward me. Every movement was deliberate, her gown flowing like molten crimson. She stopped before me, her eyes locked on mine. "Are you saying… you don't want me?"
I swallowed hard. My introvert brain short-circuited. My mouth betrayed me. "I don't think I can say that," I mumbled.
She smiled—and sat on my lap.
Her warmth seeped through my armor. Her scent, jasmine laced with cinnamon, enveloped me. I froze, every nerve burning. Her head rested lightly on my chest, her embrace soft but unyielding.
My mind screamed warnings. She's manipulating you. She's dangerous. She's a Seer.
But my heart thundered with a treacherous thought: She's… mine.
Finally, I croaked, "What do you want from me?"
Her whisper slid into my ear, velvet and fire. "Everything."
I should have pulled away. Instead, I stayed still, captive by choice.
"It's your turn," I rasped. "Tell me what we must discuss."
She tilted her head, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Shall I return to my throne while we talk?"
I surprised myself—reached for her hand, traced her palm. "Stay here with me," I whispered.
Her smile deepened. Promising danger. Promising desire.
"Alright then," she breathed. "There's much you must know. First—you must return to your main body, to the Ancient Realm where you were summoned. There are things you must do to defeat them. Then, I will tell you of my world, my race, our history… and why you must summon me there, to you, as soon as possible."