'This cannot be happening to me,' Daphne thought dazedly. She couldn't move her legs, but that didn't stop her body from gliding down the aisle via a supernatural force. She narrowed her eyes, glaring hotly at the culprit as the distance between her and her soon-to-be husband steadily shrank.

Out of the hordes of servants watching this spectacle, no one blinked an eye at the fact that she was here under duress, getting married under the coercion of supernatural forces. If her groom could do this to her, an actual princess, who knows what the servants had to endure?

Said culprit merely continued smirking.

"Why do you look so delighted?" Daphne grumbled. She could not be less amused.

"Someone has to be for this wedding, and it certainly isn't going to be you," he replied glibly, holding her hand with his own, larger one. For such a cold-hearted scoundrel, he certainly had warm hands.

"What makes you think I'll accept this farce of a wedding?"

"You have no choice," King Atticus said. "Agree to marry me, or I'll kill everyone in this hall and marry you anyway. The choice is yours."

"You―" Her blood grew cold when she heard the callous words from his lips. "They are your people! You're their king. You would kill them for this?"

"Like you said, I'm their king. If our marriage doesn't happen, they'll die anyway. It's only a matter of time. Would you have their deaths on your conscience, Princess Daphne?"

If Daphne were calmer, she would find those words suspicious. As it was, she was shaking from unrestrained rage. "Don't you dare blame me for your actions! I pity your people, for having to live under such a capricious and cruel king."

King Atticus only looked more amused. He turned to the priest, who looked like he couldn't wait to escape from the hall. Daphne could understand. She gave him a pleading look, hoping that he could help her stop this wedding.

She was sorely disappointed.

"We are gathered here today to witness the joining of hearts and minds... "

Daphne closed her eyes in desperate prayer. She missed the fond look her husband gave her, and the way he gestured to the priest to hurry up. Instinctively, Daphne reached up, thankful that her new husband had at least given her this bit of mobility back. Yet, her body felt like it was doused in cold water when her fingers touched nothing but the bare skin of her neck.

That's right. She had forgotten. King Atticus had ripped the last bit of familiarity left on her body and smashed it to the ground like it was nothing more than glass.

The realization of her destroyed necklace sent Daphne into further despair. After all, that necklace wasn't just an accessory― like most jewelry on the continent, they were supposed to be charms, talismans that would aid them in their magic. And although Daphne had never been adept at it, that little trinket still made her feel safe. It was, after all, a gift from her sister.

"...to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health..." the priest continued.

Daphne could see clear as day the tick of irritation that flashed across the king's face, and with each passing word, increasingly so. The vein that throbbed at his temple nearly sent Daphne into a giggling fit.

Why was he so impatient? Did he have somewhere else to be after this?

So enraptured in her stupor, she hadn't even noticed that King Atticus had already said his vows. And when the priest addressed her, calling her for the second time, Daphne snapped back to reality.

"Your Highness?" the priest prompted.

Daphne blinked. Dumbly, her lips parted but no words left. She couldn't find her own voice, glancing back and forth between the priest and the king.

"Pardon?"

"Do you, Princess Daphne Amelia Molinero, take His Majesty, King Atticus Rowan Heinvres, as your lawfully wedded husband?"

The hall was drenched in silence. Daphne was sure that everyone could hear her heart thundering in her chest without even having to strain their ears too hard.

She wasn't sure why but Daphne's first instinct was to turn towards King Atticus. Her eyes met his instantly, gazes colliding.

For some insane reason, Daphne felt her heart calm down. The gaze in his eyes were soft, mellow, and unlike anything else she had ever associated him with ever since she had first heard tales of this cruel king.

The pooling gold in his eyes was hypnotizing. His irises reminded Daphne of the stars that dotted the sky at night, or of the glow of the sun when evening casts it onto the horizon.

She was so mesmerized in his gaze that it was only when the hall erupted into boisterous cheers had she finally snapped out of it.

"And now I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Wait... had she already said 'I do'?

"Wait―" Daphne murmured, looking around. "I didn't―"

"You did," King Atticus swiftly cut in. Daphne glared sharply at him, her blood boiling when she connected the dots.

"You! You used magic on me," she accused angrily.

Her new husband had the gall to look affronted at being accused. "Honored priest, did you see me casting any spell on my bride?"

"No I did not, Your Highness," the priest said placidly.

Daphne gritted her teeth. They were all liars and scoundrels.

"You heard him."

Before Daphne could react, she felt a pair of warm lips pressed against her own. The kiss was not intrusive― there was no tongue or teeth or any of that disgusting action she had heard the maids of the Reawethen castle had gossiped about.

Instead, it was just a chaste kiss, a brief moment where their lips were in contact. Yet, that brief second was all that was needed. Warmth rushed through her body. Immediately, where their skins touched, Daphne felt as though it was on fire ― in the best way possible ― as if there were flowers blooming where he touched her.

The feeling confused her, for she rejected and repelled the man with all her might in her heart. Yet... maybe it was just the power of it having been her first kiss. It felt like for a second, she had been cast into paradise.

But that second came and went and as soon as Atticus pulled back, Daphne snapped back into reality. That was the second time within the last hour the king had done something against her desires.

Meanwhile, Atticus only beamed when he saw his new wife's angry face.

"Now that the ceremony is over, we should proceed to the most important part of any wedding."

"I'm not hungry," Daphne bit out. Her stomach was now twisted with dread and indignant anger― she doubted she could swallow anything bigger than a prune. "You can have the banquet without me."

"Banquet? Surely you jest, my sweet wife. We're not having a banquet."

"Then what are you referring to? What can be more important than..."

Her voice trailed off, a horrible conclusion forming in her mind. Her body trembled and shook and her eyes widened with fear.

A look of utmost amusement flashed across his handsome face.

"It seems like you've guessed it." Atticus turned to his servants and declared, "Prepare the bedding chamber! I wish to consummate my marriage immediately."

"C-Consummate?!" Daphne all but squeaked, her voice cracking in disbelief as she echoed the word she just heard― the only word she heard.

"Is that so hard to digest, my beloved wife?" Atticus questioned, the corner of his lips raised in a slight curl. "Isn't that something that every average, ordinary couple would do?"

He leaned forward, bending down slightly so that they could meet eye to eye. Daphne leaned back as far as she could. If she hadn't, their lips would've met again.

A small part of Daphne wasn't too against it. After all, King Atticus was remarkably handsome―

'No!' Daphne squeezed her eyes shut. 'Snap out of it!" she chided herself internally.

The man was indeed handsome, she would give him that. But he was also rude, annoying, and a persistently disrespectful, pigeon-livered―

"Why is your face so red, my darling?" Atticus continued to ask, wearing a lazy grin as he watched her sulk. "Surely you wouldn't abhor the idea as much as you seem to show?"

"In case you don't remember, Your Majesty, I was not and am not a willing participant of this marriage. " Daphne smiled with all her teeth. "And besides, no one would classify you as average and ordinary."

King Atticus smiled. "So you do think I'm extraordinary. What high praise, it almost makes my heart flutter."

Before she could slap him for his impudent comment, he continued.

"The whole hall heard you say your vows, sunshine." Atticus dared to reach forward, playing with a lock of her hair in his hand, twirling it around his finger. "You are now my queen whether you like it or not. And ultimately, you will still be by my side whether you like it or not."

"Your Majesty!" A guard suddenly appeared, saluting the king.

"Speak."

"The room has been prepared as per your instructions."

Before Daphne could react, Atticus scooped her up in his arms bridal-style, an arm under her knees and another supporting her back. She was swiftly lifted into the air and hulled out of the hall, a collective gasp ringing throughout the hall as the crowd watched their king and new queen practically disappear in a cloud of dust.

"Put me down!" She protested, but of course she was ignored.

They went past a few different corridors which all looked the same to Daphne. And when they finally came to the last door at the end of the hallway, Atticus unceremoniously kicked it open, causing her to panic. That door was made out of heavy wood, and it was dented by one mere kick. If he used his strength on her in bed, her bones would shatter immediately. She immediately squirmed, trying to escape.

He tightened his arms around her as he strode into the room. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you."

She had half-expected him to be rough. Yet, Atticus gently laid her down on the silky sheets before reaching for her shoes. Carefully, he helped her to remove them without another word, placing them against the wall and out of the way.

"What are you doing?" Daphne asked, wrinkling her nose in suspicion. "Why are you suddenly so... so..."

Gentle.

That was what she wanted to say. Yet, the word was caught in her throat.

"Hmm?" he hummed, looking up. In the dim light, Atticus's eyes reminded Daphne of a wild animal― wild and ravenous.

"Can I not help my lovely wife get comfortable in our own bed?" Atticus asked.

He reached up, loosening his own clothing. One by one, each piece of fabric fell from his body until all that was left was a loose white top with a very low collar. Daphne's eyes dropped down, betraying her by stealing a glance at his broad, firm chest.

She caught a slight glimpse of his sculpted figure, tantalizingly hidden only by a piece of sheer white fabric. But before she could see more, a finger was propped under her chin, lifting gently so that now her gaze met the king's.

"Eyes are up here, sunshine." He chuckled.

Atticus leaned forward, sending Daphne quickly scrambling back in a futile attempt to create distance between them. However, her back soon came into contact with the head of the bed frame, rudely reminding her that she now had nowhere else to run.

So instead of running, Daphne looked for a weapon. Her eyes flitted back and forth around her immediate vicinity until they landed on the bronze candelabra that was placed right next to the bed. She reached for it and gripped it tightly in her hold, poised and ready to strike.

"Is that necessary?" the king asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't exactly fancy the idea of fornicating with a man I am not in love with."

"Most married couples aren't in love, especially kings and queens," Atticus dryly replied. "And, correction, we are husband and wife. We should 'fornicate' intensely and frequently, for the good of our people."

"Frequently?! You must be daft. I see― you just want children. Well, since I'm your wife, I'll let you adopt all the children you want for your lineage! There's no need for consummation." She wielded the candelabra in front of her protectively, her knuckles turning white.

At her words, he chuckled darkly. "My my, are you so sheltered to believe that children are the only reasons for consummation?"

"Why else would anyone have bedroom relations?" Daphne demanded, her cheeks red hot.

She knew. Of course she did. There were more than a hundred whispers from the maids whenever they thought that no one else was within listening range. It was just that Daphne had never dared dream of it.

Could anyone even imagine? She was a princess! These vulgar gossip should've never made it to her ears. However, God made women curious creatures.

"And ― if it were for children ― what if I wanted children born from true royal blood?" Atticus hummed, his voice almost sing-song.

Daphne gulped, wishing away the bitter taste in her mouth as she prepared for what she was about to say next.

"Then take concubines, lovers, if you must."

"And you would allow that, my queen?" Atticus teased. "If I were to spend the night with another woman in bed," he moved forward, "tumbling in the sheets," another inch closer, "our breaths hot and heavy..."

Daphne took in a sharp breath when Atticus edged in nearer. Their faces were barely inches apart now. She was so close that his gaze was all that she could see, and as like before, she was entranced.

Just a bit. A bit more and their lips would've touched. But as much as her mind fought against the thought, her body couldn't seem to obey.

"Tell me, my sunshine," Atticus continued, "would you truly be okay with seeing your husband with someone else intimately?"

Daphne didn't have the chance ― thankfully ― to reply. Before she could even gather her thoughts, a series of knocks thundered on the door that separated them from the outside world, sending Daphne jumping a little where she sat.

Atticus's head spun immediately to face the door, a scowl hanging on his face.

"Who dares to interrupt my wedding night?" he bellowed. If looks could kill, Daphne knew that nothing could save the person that had just knocked on their bedroom door.

"Your Highness!" A panicked voice could be heard from outside. "We have intruders in the castle!"

Atticus rolled his eyes at the door. "That's it? I thought it was an emergency."

Hope bloomed in Daphne's heart. Intruders? No, it must have been a rescue party sent to retrieve her after they realized she hadn't arrived on time.

She genuinely smiled for the first time since arriving in this wretched kingdom.

There were sounds of a scuffle at the door, but King Atticus merely looked irritated.

"This is a sign that our union is not blessed by the Heavens," Daphne couldn't help but point out smugly as she escaped from the bed, scuttling to the edge of the room with the candelabra still clutched in her hand. "You should have known that kidnapping a royal bride would have consequences."

"Get back here. It's dangerous," Atticus demanded, an actual frown on his face― a far cry from his smug expressions. It delighted her to know that finally, he was experiencing some sort of inconvenience after all he did to her.

"No thank you," she said primly, loving the sudden turn of events. Ever since she had arrived to Vramid, King Atticus was the one that had the upper hand. Finally, Daphne felt as though she was one leg ahead.

"Don't stand there," Atticus warned, but it was too late.

A loud crash reverberated through the room. A masked man had shattered the glass panel of the window and leapt through the newly created gap. His eyes scanned the room, eyebrows furrowed deeply until his gaze landed on Daphne's trembling figure.

Daphne screamed and flinched at the sharp sound of glass breaking, fully expecting to be showered by glass shards. To her surprise, the shards never made it to her.

She opened a wary eye, only to see multiple shards floating in the air.

King Atticus had his hand outstretched, a snarl on his face. The small obsidian stone embedded in his silver ring glowed, practically shimmering. That was the source of his power. And clearly, he was powerful enough to simply freeze objects in motion as if it was a feat no more difficult than lifting his finger.

Daphne was relieved he saved her from being cut, but then she reminded herself that she wouldn't be in such a situation if not for him.

Besides, that flashy display of power only once again confirmed what she had already assumed. Their power difference was so stark that there was nothing Daphne could do to escape him on her own. What magic he wielded so effortlessly could not even be done by her after years of futile training.

What a poor excuse of a princess she was. Even her own little charm had been crushed by his bare hands.

"Princess!" the masked intruder shouted. "We're here to―"

"You're here to what?" Atticus cut in, a sneer on his face.

With a mere flick of his wrist, he directed the glass shards over to the intruder. The shards obeyed, slicing through the air like a thousand daggers.

The intruder managed to evade some but he definitely did not escape unscathed. While it was nothing fatal, cuts had already peppered his skin, lines of crimson seeping into the dark fabric of his clothing.

Sensing that he was seriously outclassed, the intruder reached for something under his scarf. There hidden just under the thin fabric was a clear stone. When the man touched it, the stone started to glow brilliantly.

A shrill, high-pitched sound resonated, immediately causing Daphne to reach up to shield her ears.

Within seconds, three other masked men appeared. Their appearance caused Daphne to take an unsure step back. There must've been a piece of glass that had been missed out by Atticus because the next thing she knew, a sharp pain shot through her leg, originating from the sole of her foot. When Daphne looked down and was met with the scarlet of her blood, she knew she had been cut.

A hiss involuntarily left her lips, the sound caused by her pain. It immediately drew Atticus's attention as the king spun around until he laid sight on the cut on her foot. Instantly, his frown deepened.

"Princess," one of the intruders said, "we are here under the orders of Crown Prince―"

"What a fucking pest," Atticus spat out.

"What?" One of the intruders had dumbly spoken out of turn, quickly gaining Atticus's scornful glare.

"In case you four imbeciles didn't know," he said, "it's supposed to be my wedding night."

With that said, Atticus raised a hand, holding it out in the general direction of the one that had spoken. Immediately, the man's limbs tightly stuck onto his body as if he was held together by a tight rope. His body went rigid, under Atticus's complete control.

The next man raised a hand, a silver glint forewarning a blade. Noticing that, Atticus narrowed his eyes. He moved his hand sharply in the direction of the broken window, sending the first man flying out with a scream.

As soon as the man was gone, Atticus held his other hand out to the second one. The scarlet light from the second invader was quickly snuffed. This time, instead of flinging him out, Atticus started to clench his fist.

The man's body was crushed along with the king's hand motions, paired with Daphne's horrified gasp. Multiple cracks could be heard due to the shattering of the man's ribs, along with pained gurgles from the victim. Yet, all this while, Atticus remained unflinching.

"Get him!" The other two intruders let out a unified battle cry as they charged toward the king, their weapons in hand.

"Pathetic," was all Atticus murmured. "If you so wish to court death, I will bring you to hell myself."