The grand double doors at the end of the room swung open, and a figure entered, his every step radiating an aura of quiet power. Indraneel Rohan Atharia, the crown prince, was a vision of elegance and grace, with a face that seemed to be sculpted from marble and eyes as deep and dark as the river of blood. He moved with a regal ease that made my own nervous fidgeting seem all the more clumsy. But as his eyes met mine, I felt a chill run down my spine. They were filled with a cold, hard hatred.
The King, his smile widening, gestured for Indraneel to approach. "My dear Indraneel, you're just in time."
Indraneel bowed to the King, then turned to me, his gaze lingering on my face. "Father," he said, his voice as smooth and cold as polished marble, "I trust you have a good reason for summoning me here."
The King chuckled. "Of course, my dear son. We have a matter of great importance to discuss. A matter concerning the future of the kingdom and, perhaps, your own future."
He glanced at me, his red eyes gleaming with amusement. "Indraneel, my dear boy, I believe you've met Quincey, the third son of the House of Craus. He's been a bit unwell recently, but now he's fully recovered, and I think it's time for you to meet him properly."
Indraneel's gaze flickered to me, a flicker of contempt passing across his face. "I have, father. I haven't forgotten the… incident."
The King's laughter echoed through the chamber, but I felt a tremor of fear run through me. I didn't remember any incident. I hadn't even met the crown prince before.
"Ah, but that was just a misunderstanding," the King said, waving his hand dismissively. "Now, as I was saying, I have a very important announcement to make."
He leaned forward, his gaze meeting Indraneel's. "My dear son, I have decided that the time is right for you to take on a wife. A union that will strengthen the bonds between the royal family and one of the most influential houses in the kingdom."
My heart pounded in my chest. I had a feeling this was going to be about me.
"And I have chosen the perfect candidate," the King continued, his voice brimming with excitement. "It is my pleasure to announce that you will be marrying Quincey, the third son of Duke Craus."
The King's words hung in the air, heavy with expectations and unspoken tension. I felt a cold sweat break out on my skin. I didn't want this. I didn't want to be part of this game.
Indraneel, however, remained silent, his face impassive. He looked like a statue carved from ice.
The King, mistaking his silence for contemplation, continued. "I've already spoken to the Duke. He is in full agreement. The wedding will be a grand affair, and I've already chosen the date. We'll announce the engagement at a formal ball next month, followed by a lavish wedding ceremony in the spring. I can't imagine a more perfect union."
But his words were met with a silence that was heavy and cold, like the air in a tomb.
Finally, Indraneel spoke, his voice like the crack of thunder. "Father, I cannot marry this… this… creature."
The King's laughter died in his throat. His eyes narrowed, and a vein throbbed in his forehead. "Indraneel, what do you mean?"
Indraneel's gaze, cold and hard, settled on me. "I love someone else. I cannot marry him. Not for all the power in the kingdom. And I certainly won't be forced to marry someone I despise."
A collective gasp filled the chamber. The King's eyes blazed with fury. The nobles whispered amongst themselves, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief.
My father, however, remained stoic. He rose from his chair, his gaze unwavering. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and steady. "Perhaps there has been a misunderstanding. I'm sure Quincey will make a fine, loving husband. A union between our two houses would be a strategic, mutually beneficial alliance. And Quincey is a good son, a devoted and loyal omega. He would make a wonderful partner for your son."
He spoke with an unwavering confidence that made my stomach churn. He was trying to defend me, but I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand. My own heart was pounding with fear and a growing sense of dread. He was acting as if he was defending my honor, yet he was pushing me into a situation I didn't want.
My mother, sensing my distress, reached out to me, his hand resting on my shoulder. His eyes held a mixture of worry and understanding. "It's alright, Quincey, everything will be alright. Just trust your father."
But I couldn't trust him. Not anymore.
A tremor of anger ran through me. I had to do something. I had to stop this.
"Father, please, stop," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I don't want to marry the crown prince."
My father turned to me, his expression cold and hard. "Quincey, what are you saying? You've been waiting for this wedding, for this union. For months, you've talked about your future with Indraneel. Why stop now?"
His words felt like a slap in the face. I wanted to scream, to tell him that I wasn't the real Quincey, that I didn't know anything about this arrangement, this "fondness" for the crown prince. But I couldn't. Not now. Not with the King and Indraneel watching.
"I… I don't know what I'm doing," I mumbled, my voice barely audible. "I don't want to marry him. I just don't."
My father's face hardened. "You are my son. You will follow my orders. This is for the good of the family. And you will do your duty. You have been declaring your love for Indraneel, you have been talking about how excited you are for this marriage. What do you mean you don't love him? Everyone in the kingdom knows about your feelings for him. All those grand gestures, those extravagant displays of affection—what was it all for? Don't make me lose face and be a disgrace to the family."
My mother squeezed my hand, his eyes pleading with me to be quiet. But I couldn't stay silent. This was my life, and I would not be controlled by them.
"I won't marry him," I said, my voice shaking but firm. "I won't be forced to marry someone I don't love."
Silence filled the chamber, heavy and thick with unspoken tension. The King stared at me, his red eyes narrowed in disbelief. Indraneel's gaze, however, was filled with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. He seemed to be studying me, gauging my reaction, as if trying to decipher what was going on. He was clearly suspicious, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes as if a sliver of uncertainty was creeping in.
"You won't?" My father said, his voice was low and dangerous. "You won't marry the crown prince?"
I shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest. "I can't."
"But you love him!" My father spat the words out, his voice filled with fury. "Everyone in the kingdom knows about your feelings. You've been flaunting your love for him. You've been boasting about this marriage. You've been planning for this for months. And now you're telling me you won't marry him?"
The King, who had been silent, leaned forward on his throne. "Are you saying you are refusing this honor?" he asked, his red eyes narrowed. "Do you understand the consequences of your actions?"
The room was deathly quiet. The King's words hung in the air, heavy with threat. My father, however, seemed to be struggling to regain control of the situation. He glanced at me, his face a mask of fury and disappointment.
Indraneel, who had been observing the scene with a mixture of suspicion and amusement, finally shifted his gaze, meeting mine with a look of pure disgust. He couldn't have been more repulsed if I'd just insulted his mother. His eyes, usually so dark and intense, seemed to gleam with a cold, calculating light, as if he was trying to figure out what kind of game I was playing. Was this just another one of my antics, another elaborate display of attention-seeking behavior?
That look, the sheer loathing in his eyes, made a sharp pain pierce through my chest as if a dagger had been plunged straight through my heart. It was unbearable, a physical sensation that seemed to constrict my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. It was the kind of pain that made you question your very existence, that made you doubt your own worth. It felt like a road I had been traveling on for years, a road I had believed would lead me to a brighter future, had just been ripped apart, leaving me stranded and lost. It felt as if the heavens themselves were against me.
And I shouldn't be feeling this way. I wasn't Quincy. I didn't know him, didn't share his history, his feelings, his supposed infatuation with the crown prince. But the pain was real, tangible, a heavy weight settling in my chest. Why couldn't I shake this feeling of despair? Why did it feel as if this betrayal, this rejection, was somehow my own?
The King, seeing the silent exchange between us, let out a helpless sigh. "Very well," he said, his voice laced with resignation. "You may have your way, Quincey. But you must understand, this is not a permanent decision. The marriage is merely postponed, not canceled. In three months, you will be going to the Royal Academy."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "The crown prince is currently attending the academy. I expect you to make every effort to cultivate a relationship with him. To get to know him, to understand him, to find the connection you so desperately seek. Perhaps then you will see that this union is not so dreadful after all. Perhaps then you will change your mind."
I was surprised. I had expected him to punish me, to throw me in a dungeon, or at the very least, strip me of my title. I hadn't expected him to be so… understanding.
The King's eyes flickered over to Indraneel, who still looked utterly disgusted, his face a mask of disdain.
I met the King's gaze. "What if I don't change my mind?" I asked.
The King's lips curled into a wry smile. "Then you will have time to prepare for your wedding."
The King's words sent a shiver down my spine. I had no idea what the future held for me, but I knew one thing for certain: my life was about to change, and not for the better.
My mind was a jumbled mess of fear and confusion. What was I supposed to do? How could I possibly explain to them that I wasn't the real Quincey? That I had no interest in marrying the crown prince, nor did I have any feelings for him? I was trapped in this charade, this masquerade, and the consequences of my actions were already starting to become clear.
I could feel a growing sense of panic within me. I needed to think, to figure out a way out of this mess. But my mind was racing, my thoughts scattering like dandelion seeds in a summer breeze.
My gaze drifted to Indraneel, who was still staring at me, his face a mask of disgust, his eyes filled with an intensity that made my blood run cold. It was like a wall, a barrier separating us, a wall that screamed, "I hate you, I want nothing to do with you."
He had no idea what real love was, what real freedom felt like. He was lost, and I felt sorry for him. He was just another pawn in a game he didn't understand.
But that didn't make my own pain any less real. It was a wound that ran deep, a wound that cut to the core of my being. I needed to get away from this, from this suffocating world of duty and expectations. I needed to find a way to be free.
But how could I escape? How could I break free from the chains that bound me, from the invisible walls that imprisoned me?
My heart pounded in my chest, a drumbeat of fear and uncertainty.
I had to do something. I had to act. But what could I do?
Indraneel, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up. His voice was cold and clipped, laced with a hint of annoyance. "Your Majesty, I must object. I don't want to spend time with someone who's very villainous and corrupted, someone who has a black heart. This is someone who is the most vile omega I've ever met, someone who deserves to be locked away. I would rather spend the rest of my days in a dungeon than be forced to share a single breath with this abomination."
His words, while sharp and cutting, also held a sense of desperation, as if he was trying to hold onto a shred of control in a situation that was rapidly spiraling out of his hands. His golden hair seemed to shimmer with an almost unnatural brilliance, and his red eyes, usually filled with a predatory gleam, were now narrowed into slits, boring into me as if cursing me with his very gaze. I flinched, feeling that intensity like a physical assault, the kind of look that could crack your bones and leave you shattered. I felt a fresh wave of pain, the kind that seemed to twist around my insides like a barbed wire as if he could actually inflict physical harm with that intensity.
The King raised a hand, silencing Indraneel before he could continue his tirade. "Enough, Indraneel. You will show respect to the guest in my court."
Indraneel, however, remained defiant, his gaze never leaving mine. "Respect? For this…creature? He has no right to my respect. He has no right to even breathe the same air as me."
The King, however, remained unfazed, his gaze turning to me with a mixture of amusement and irritation.
"Indraneel, I appreciate your passion, but I'm afraid this is not a matter of your opinion." The King said his voice was a low rumble as if the weight of the crown was crushing his spirit. "This union will bring much-needed peace to the kingdom, an alliance of power and prosperity. You need to do your duty as the future king."
"But father, how can I," Indraneel's voice was laced with defiance, "enter into a union with someone I despise? This is a marriage, not a political agreement. How can I possibly be expected to share a life with someone I loathe?"
The pain that had been gnawing at me since Indraneel's initial outburst intensified, twisting around my insides like a living thing. It felt like a physical assault, a crushing weight pressing down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. It was a pain that was somehow both familiar and alien, a pain that I had never experienced before. It was the pain of being hated, of being rejected, of being seen as unworthy. It was the pain of being invisible, of being forgotten, of being utterly insignificant.
"You will learn to respect him," the King said, his voice a low rumble that echoed through the chamber. "You will see that he is more than you perceive him to be. You will learn to appreciate him for who he is, and you will come to love him."
The King's words were laced with a chilling certainty, a confidence that seemed to radiate from him like heat. He seemed to be speaking not to his son, but to an audience of unseen listeners, as if he was delivering a prophecy.
Indraneel, however, was unmoved. He shook his head, his face twisted with anger. "I will never love him, father. I will never love him. Not for all the kingdoms in the world. I want to marry someone else. Someone I love. Someone who loves me back. Someone who deserves my respect."
He paused, drawing a deep breath. His eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of something in their depths: a burning hatred, a venomous rage that made my blood run cold. He seemed to be looking at me as if I was some kind of creature, something that had crawled out from beneath a rock.
He turned to his father, his voice resonating with a strength and conviction that startled me. "I will not marry this…this…creature. I will never marry him. I will find my own happiness, and it will not be with him."
He turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The tension in the room, however, didn't ease. The pain that had been building within me intensified. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong. Indraneel's words, his hatred, his disgust… they were all aimed at me. It all felt like a trap, a suffocating nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.
"You see, my dear Quincey," the King said, his voice laced with sarcasm, "Indraneel is just a little…passionate. He'll come around. He'll forget this foolish infatuation. I'm sure he'll come to see the wisdom of this union. And you, my dear boy, will make a fine, loving husband."
I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. My mind was a jumble of emotions, and I was afraid to speak. I didn't want to make any promises or make any plans. My head spun with confusion, with dread. The uncertainty, the fear, the pain, it was all just too much.
The King turned and walked away, leaving me and my father standing alone.
Pain Meter Reached 22%
The notification flashed across my vision. I had never seen it before, but I knew what it meant. The pain, the fear, the uncertainty, it was all starting to take a toll on my mind, on my body, on my soul.
I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me, and I swayed on my feet.
Pain Meter Reached 25%
Another notification flashed across my vision, and a sharp pain shot through my head.
Panic flooded me. What was a pain meter? What did it mean? And why was it reaching 25%?
The world around me began to spin. My vision blurred, and my ears filled with a ringing sound.
Then everything went dark.