Lucina
The air in the chamber was thick with hushed anxiety, the only sounds the faint rustling of silk and the soft wiping of a maid's cloth across my skin. Outside, the night sky stretched endlessly, a deep midnight blue dusted with stars. The grand palace shimmered under the brilliant moon, its silver glow filtering through the windows and settling like stardust over everything inside.
"Faded," one of my ladies-in-waiting whispered reassuringly as she examined the last touches of my makeup. She was a dark-skinned girl with keen eyes that always sparkled when she teased me. Leaning in, she added conspiratorially, "I'm sure you'll capture the heart of the King."
Her confidence made a flutter build in my stomach, but before I could enjoy the moment, the conversation shifted-sharply.
"...But I'm a bit worried about how skinny she is," another maid murmured, her tone tinged with genuine concern. "I wonder if she'll even be able to survive with such a frail body..."
I stiffened. A cold jolt of fear shot up my spine.
My imagination betrayed me; a tiny, chibi-like version of myself appeared in my mind, sitting stiffly on the couch with a shocked "!!" hovering above her head as the maids whispered behind her.
"H-Huh? Why?!" My real voice squeaked out before I could stop it.
The brown-haired maid shrugged lightly, but her eyes held a hint of sharpness. "Who knows? Perhaps they couldn't handle how great a Draconian is."
"Survive... what?" I asked, my anxiety now fully awake and clawing at my throat.
I looked from maid to maid, my blue eyes wide and frightened. "Do you know why the King doesn't get close to any women?"
A terrifying rumor-the kind whispered deep in the shadowed corners of the court-flashed through my mind with a chilling clarity.
> DOES HAKAN... HIT WOMEN IN THE BEDROOM?
My breath caught. I could feel myself trembling.
Just then, my closest maid stepped forward and took my hands firmly in hers. Her warmth hummed through me, steadying the panic rising in my chest. Her gaze held nothing but certainty.
"Lucina will be fine," she said with absolute conviction.
No-I will be fine.
A moment later, her expression shifted. Her seriousness dissolved into a cheerful confidence as she bent down in a playful stance, her voice bursting with pride and excitement.
"DON'T WORRY!" she chirped. "YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE BIRTH TO A BEAUTIFUL BABY AND BECOME QUEEN!"
Before I could protest or even process her words, she pulled me up.
"IT'S TIME TO GO IN!"
DASH-The world blurred as I was ushered toward the grand chamber doors. Every step echoed in my ears like a drumbeat.
STEP.
STEP.
Then I heard it: the firm, powerful tread of my husband-of the King-approaching from within the chamber.
I didn't even need to see him. His presence alone, sharp and commanding, filled the air. The image formed in my mind instantly: the broad shoulders, the intense eyes, the poised hand holding a glass of wine.
I was about to face the King, Hakan... and my destiny.
The doors swept open.
Soft, ethereal light spilled out, illuminating the chamber in the delicate glow of pink and white roses. My gown shimmered faintly with each breath as I stepped forward. Once I stood before him, all the maids' dire warnings evaporated-burned away by the overwhelming gravity of the man staring at me.
He held a wine glass loosely, his fingers tapping the rim-TAP, TAP.
But his eyes... his eyes were entirely, undeniably on me.
"Come here," he commanded, his hand extended.
My heart raced beneath the pale pink fabric of my dress as I obeyed. His gaze bore into me, warm and intense all at once.
"You look beautiful, Lucina."
The words shattered something inside me. My breath hitched; my cheeks bloomed into a deep, uncontrollable blush. My snowy white hair and pale skin made the warmth on my face all the more obvious.
> IT'S THE FIRST TIME... SOMEONE HAS TOLD ME I LOOK BEAUTIFUL.
He leaned in, his dark, striking face filling my vision until the world behind him disappeared. His voice dropped into a low, velvety whisper.
"I can't believe they tried to hide your lovely hair with that cheap dye."
Gently, almost reverently, he touched a strand of my white hair, his thumb brushing lightly along it.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. All I could do was stare back, caught in the pull of his gaze.
Then he smiled-a slow, deep smile that hinted at danger, power, and something I couldn't yet name.
"Are you going to faint again," he murmured, "if I kiss you?"
His question struck me like a bolt of lightning.
BLUSH-my entire face burned.
Somewhere in the corner of my mind, I could almost see the chibi version of myself squealing, shaking with giddy excitement.
This terrifying, powerful, impossibly handsome man was... actually interested in me.
He took my hand, his thumb resting softly over my pulse. His expression was unreadable, yet warm. Piercing, yet gentle.
And in that moment, all my fears melted into a dangerous, dizzying hope.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a loud, frantic BA-BUMP that echoed through the chamber's sudden hush. Heat climbed my neck, blooming across my cheeks as his words replayed in my mind like a spell cast directly over my senses.
Am I going to faint again if I kiss you?
The question floated between us, framed by the soft glow of pink roses and candlelight, wrapping the moment in a dizzying mixture of fear and a sheer, terrifying excitement that curled inside my stomach.
I forced myself-barely-to lift my gaze. He was close. So close that his breath warmed my skin. My knees felt weak, but something in me swayed toward him anyway, as if gravity itself had changed its allegiance.
He stepped forward, slow, deliberate.
I mirrored the motion without meaning to.
And then-he was there.
His lips brushed against mine, a soft, warm contact that stole my breath. My world spun, collapsing into the gentle, testing pressure of his mouth. His lips are so soft and warm... The sweetness of the kiss deepened, his arms sliding around my waist until I felt his body press against mine. His dark hair fell over my shoulder, feather-light yet electrifying.
Time stretched.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at me, a low, rumbling sound vibrated from his chest-half a chuckle, half something possessive.
I dared glance downward.
His robe had fallen slightly open, revealing the broad, bare expanse of his chest. The sight stole the air from my lungs. After seeing his body again, it was just so... overwhelming. My eyes fixed on the swirling, dark tattoos etched along his muscles, deep and ancient-looking.
He followed my gaze, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth.
"Are my tattoos that interesting?" he asked casually, though his eyes glinted with amusement. "The symbol of my birth tribe is etched into my skin."
He stepped closer, his tone dropping into something softer, more intimate.
"You don't need to be afraid. Would you like to touch them?"
My breath faltered. Without realizing it, my hand-decorated with a delicate gold bracelet-rose toward his chest. My fingers hovered, trembling, before finally landing on the warm skin over the symbol.
Immediate shock shot up my arm.
It feels like I'm touching a rock.
The solid, unyielding muscle beneath my palm made me painfully aware of the difference between us-his strength, my fragility.
Before I could pull back, he gripped my waist with sudden, effortless certainty and LIFTED me partially off the ground.
"OH!" I gasped, heart leaping into my throat.
His strength was staggering. Terrifying. Exhilarating.
And then reality-cold and edged with dread-thrust itself back into me.
All the whispered warnings from earlier resurfaced.
I wonder if she'll survive with such a frail body... because he's worried they might end up dying after spending a night with them.
My stomach knotted.
He set me down gently on the edge of the luxurious bed. The silken sheets whispered beneath me with a soft PLOP as my dress pooled around my legs. He stepped away, the RUSTLE of his robe sounding louder than it should in the silent room. He exhaled a quiet SIGHHH, his broad back turned partially toward me.
Left alone on the bed, I suddenly felt very small.
My fingers clutched the bedding so hard my knuckles turned white. The terrifying possibility-the rumors, the whispers-loomed over me again, amplified by the raw strength I had just felt in his arms.
I don't think I'll survive... if he hits me with those strong arms.
A thin sheen of cold sweat formed across my brow. My whole body trembled despite my attempts to keep still. A silent plea twisted my expression.
"I'M NOT GOING TO DIE HERE, AM I?! I DON'T WANT TO BE BEATEN TO DEATH!"
He turned back at the sound of my strangled breathing. The way the fabric RUSTLED drew my eyes instantly.
His gaze locked onto mine-intense, unreadable.
I must've looked like a frightened animal, because something in his expression softened.
"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low but clear. "We have all night."
All night.
The words sent a fresh wave of adrenaline through me.
But instead of collapsing into fear, I felt something else stir-something stubborn, fierce. I couldn't faint again. I couldn't fall apart. I had been sent here to protect my people, secure my kingdom's future.
I am not some fragile victim.
I am the woman who will become Queen.
I straightened my spine, fighting the tremor in my hands. I lifted my chin, forcing strength into my voice-even though none existed inside me.
I would face whatever came next.
I looked up at him, my eyes wide, my heart thundering with a rhythm that felt too loud for the quiet chamber. The air around him was thick-charged with a tension I couldn't name, something between warning and expectation. My breath caught.
Is he... angry?
The thought struck sharply, making me flinch. A small tremor escaped me before I could suppress it.
He stood there-large, imposing, tattooed-his back turned to me. The muscles across his shoulders tightened, the inked patterns shifting over solid skin. Silence hung between us, stretched so taut that even the faintest movement felt like it might shatter it.
Finally, his deep voice cut through the stillness.
"I'm not angry."
A statement-strong, controlled-yet it didn't soothe me.
If anything, a tiny JOLT ran through me at the sound.
He slowly turned. His gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath stall. His long, dark hair framed his expression, unreadable as ever.
"..."
Then he lifted his hand.
"Lucina."
Just my name. Spoken low, firm, and steady.
Yet it sent a shiver cascading through me as surely as if he had touched my skin.
But fear was not the only thing inside me now. Beneath it, stronger than the trembling, brighter than the terror, was my resolve. I had chosen this path. I had stepped into this palace. I had vowed to stand as his wife.
I lowered my head-just for a moment.
Then I raised my chin, letting my long white hair spill around my shoulders like moonlight.
"NO..." I whispered, then louder, stronger:
"I DON'T EVER WANT TO GO BACK."
Light seemed to gather around me-whether from the candles or from the weight of my own declaration, I didn't know. My hands rose to my chest, clasped together.
"I'M... YOUR WIFE NOW."
He didn't respond at first.
But someone else-someone who had brought me into this moment-added their reassurance with unwavering certainty:
"DON'T WORRY, YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE BIRTH TO A BEAUTIFUL BABY AND BECOME QUEEN!"
Their confidence vibrated inside me, echoing the vow I'd already sealed in my heart.
My eyes met his again, burning with determination.
"I WON'T... GO BACK," I declared.
"I'M GOING TO BEAR YOUR CHILD... AND BECOME... THE TAYAR QUEEN."
But his eyes sharpened.
His voice cut through my resolve like a blade.
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BECOME THE QUEEN?"
I froze, stunned by the weight behind his question.
A confused symbol might as well have hovered over my head.
"?"
He didn't let my silence linger.
"DO YOU THINK YOU COULD DO THAT?"
His voice was deep, probing-demanding a truth I wasn't sure I was prepared to speak.
Then, after a still moment:
"..."
He stood tall, the white cloth around his hips revealing every carved line of his body and the dark, ancient tattoos across his skin. His next words were absolute.
"I WON'T HOLD YOU IN MY ARMS UNTIL YOU'VE FOUND THAT DETERMINATION."
And with that, he turned.
His back, broad and inked with symbols of power, faced me once more as he walked away.
"GET SOME REST. I'LL SLEEP SOMEWHERE ELSE."
STEP. STEP.
The sound of his footsteps echoed through the cavernous silence.
Left alone, I knelt on the red, luxurious bedding. The weight of his rejection, his testing of my resolve, pressed heavily on my chest.
Days passed.
And the palace was merciless.
"I heard that the King left that Brionian girl alone in his bedroom and went somewhere else," one maid whispered.
"He hasn't visited her for several days either."
Their words hung in the air like poison.
I turned slightly, catching the eye of a darker-skinned maid who glared at me with open hostility.
"SNICKER."
"I thought she was something special since he personally asked her to be his wife," one muttered.
"SNICKER."
"She's no different from us maids."
"SNICKER."
But I kept my composure. I would not let them see me break.
"LET'S... GO, TITI," I said softly to the maid at my side.
We walked away.
But then-
A bolt of dread pierced me.
"IT'S COMMON PRACTICE FOR THE KING OF TAYAR TO ENGAGE IN LEVIRATE MARRIAGE," a voice whispered seriously.
"I THINK THAT WOULD BE FOR THE BEST."
"They seem to get along as well."
I turned sharply.
TURN.
There she was: a woman with long dark hair, her lips curling into a confident smirk.
And the words that struck me like a physical blow:
"HAKAN'S GOING TO MARRY GIARET?!"
My mind reeled.
Was... was this truly the King's decision?
His condition... his rejection... had opened the door for a rival.
My rival.
And now-
. word hit me like a dagger plunged straight into my chest.
Levirate.
Spoken so casually, but weighted with centuries of tradition-tradition that now threatened to crush me.
A custom where a widow marries the brother of her deceased husband.
My breath stilled. It wasn't merely a rule of the Tayar Kingdom; it was a sacred expectation. A line of inheritance, a ritual of loyalty, and to the people here... an unbreakable truth.
And at the center of that truth stood Giaret.
Giaret, the elegant widow of the late Crown Prince.
Giaret, whose every step echoed with authority.
Giaret, who had watched me with a glittering resentment I had foolishly mistaken for simple hostility.
Now I understood.
It had never been just a rivalry.
I had been so consumed by my own survival-this foreign kingdom, this brutal palace, the impossible weight of becoming Queen-that I'd failed to notice the obvious. To the world, to the nobility, to the court steeped in tradition...
She was the natural choice for Hakan's Queen.
I was the intruder.
The whispers that slithered through the palace halls now grew fangs in my mind.
"Wasn't there once a rumor that the King harbored an unrequited affection for his brother's wife?"
My heart plummeted.
That rumor-soft, poisonous, impossible to confirm-took shape like a specter before me. If the court believed it, if Giaret believed it... did Hakan?
I could see it now: the way Giaret's eyes had hardened whenever I stood beside him; the brittle composure she fought to keep whenever our gazes crossed. It wasn't jealousy born from insecurity-
It was fury born from entitlement.
In her eyes, my mere existence offended not only her, but the very order of their kingdom.
And then, like a blade sliding home, the final truth settled over me:
Giaret... was Hakan's first love.
A dizzying rush of heat and cold washed through me.
The world tilted.
The air thinned.
Hakan-the fearsome Dragon King whose emotions were often locked behind a fortress of stoicism-had once loved her. Deeply. Before the crown, before the war, before fate had shackled us together.
And that woman, that first love, now stood before me as my greatest threat.
My fingers curled into my silk gown, anchoring me as panic clawed up my throat. My marriage to Hakan had always been a transaction-a treaty sealed with my life. I had told myself I understood that.
But now... now the edges of that fragile understanding were beginning to unravel.
If Hakan's heart had once belonged to Giaret-
If the court believed she was destined to be his queen-
If tradition demanded she take her place beside him-
Then what was I?
A foreign pawn?
A temporary obstacle?
A usurper standing in the shadow of the woman he had loved first?
The revelation settled over me like a death sentence, quiet and suffocating.
I was battling more than politics.
More than custom.
More than a kingdom determined to reject me.
I was battling the past.
The law.
And perhaps... the hidden chambers of Hakan's heart.