The air in the great hall was suffocating, heavy with the scent of incense and the weight of unspoken tension. Mei knelt on the cold jade floor, her head bowed low as the king's deep, commanding voice echoed through the chamber. She dared not lift her gaze, but she could feel his eyes piercing through her as though he could strip away every layer of her defiance and pride.

“Your father’s debt is beyond redemption,” the king said, his tone as unyielding as the stone beneath her knees. “And yet, I am not a man without mercy.”

Mercy. Mei bit back the bitter laugh rising in her throat. Her father had gambled away their fortune, leaving their family name tarnished and their future in ruin. There was no mercy in the king’s decree—only power.

“I have no interest in silver or land,” the king continued, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “What I want is you.”

Mei’s head shot up, her dark eyes locking with his for the first time. The sight of him was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Dressed in royal gold and crimson, the king sat upon his throne like a predator surveying his prey. His sharp jawline, piercing black eyes, and aura of absolute authority made him both alluring and untouchable.

“You would take me as payment for a debt I did not incur?” Mei’s voice trembled, though she fought to steady it.

The king’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk. “Your father’s debt is your burden. A family does not splinter under responsibility—it bears it together.”

Mei’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. She wanted to scream, to protest, but what choice did she have? Her father had squandered their honor. Her mother’s frail health left her unable to intervene. And now she, the only child, stood alone before the king.

“If I refuse?” she asked, her chin lifting defiantly.

The king’s expression darkened, a flicker of menace behind his eyes. “You will not refuse. To do so would ensure the utter destruction of your family.”

Mei’s breath caught. She had known he would wield his power over her, but to hear it spoken aloud made her knees weaken. She had no options.

“Why me?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

The king rose from his throne and descended the steps with measured, deliberate strides. He stopped just before her, towering over her trembling form. With a single finger, he lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“Because I want you,” he said simply, his voice as soft as it was dangerous. “And what I want, I take.”

Mei’s heart raced, not from fear but from something she could not name. This man—this king—was as intoxicating as he was terrifying.

“I will give you three days to prepare for the wedding,” he said, releasing her chin. “You belong to me now, Mei. Accept it.”

As he turned and walked away, Mei remained frozen on the floor, her mind swirling with anger, fear, and an undeniable curiosity about the man who had just claimed her as his own.

The palace loomed before Mei like a gilded prison, its grand walls stretching endlessly toward the heavens. Every detail spoke of power and control—from the crimson banners fluttering in the cold wind to the guards standing at rigid attention. Yet, despite its splendor, Mei felt a sharp pang of dread as the heavy gates closed behind her, sealing her fate.

She was no longer free.

The royal steward, a severe man with hawk-like eyes, led her through the labyrinthine halls without a word. Mei struggled to keep her composure, her delicate slippers clicking against the polished marble. Servants flitted past, bowing deeply but avoiding her gaze. Did they pity her? Or did they view her as just another piece of the king’s collection, an ornament to be displayed and forgotten?

“This will be your chamber,” the steward announced, pushing open a massive door carved with intricate lotus blossoms.

Mei stepped inside, and her breath hitched. The room was nothing short of opulent—a sprawling space adorned with silk drapes, golden accents, and a bed so large it could easily fit five people. A tray of fresh fruit and steaming tea waited on an ebony table. Everything here screamed of luxury, yet it felt cold, detached.

“His Majesty expects you to dine with him tonight,” the steward continued, his voice devoid of emotion. “You will be escorted to the hall at sundown. Until then, you may rest.”

Before Mei could respond, the door shut with a resounding thud, leaving her alone.

She paced the room, her mind racing. How had her life unraveled so quickly? Just days ago, she had been tending to her mother, clinging to the hope that they might find a way to repay her father’s debts. Now, she was a bride-to-be, bound to a man she barely knew but already despised.

And yet…

She paused at the window, gazing out at the sprawling palace gardens bathed in the golden light of late afternoon. Her fingers brushed against the silk sash of her dress, a gift from the king himself. For all his coldness, there had been a flicker of something else in his eyes when he looked at her. Possession, yes—but also hunger.

Mei shivered, her thoughts slipping back to the throne room. The way he had lifted her chin, his touch both gentle and commanding, lingered in her memory. It wasn’t fear that had made her pulse quicken in that moment. It was something far more dangerous.

The sound of the door opening jolted her from her thoughts. A young maid entered, her head bowed.

“Miss Mei,” she said softly, “the king has sent this for you.”

In her hands was a crimson robe embroidered with gold phoenixes, the fabric shimmering in the light.

Mei’s throat tightened as she took the garment. The phoenix—symbol of resilience, rebirth, and a queen.

Her fate was sealed, yet she could not ignore the spark of curiosity burning within her. Who was this man who claimed her so boldly? And why, despite everything, did she feel an inexplicable pull toward him?

Sundown was approaching, and with it, her first encounter as the king’s intended.

The dining hall was an opulent cavern of gold and shadow, lit by the flickering glow of hundreds of lanterns. Mei’s footsteps echoed softly as she was led inside by two attendants, her crimson robe trailing behind her like liquid fire. She kept her head high, her chin tilted in defiance, though her heart pounded against her ribs.

At the head of the grand table sat the king, his dark eyes fixed on her the moment she entered. He wore no crown tonight, but his presence alone was more imposing than any regalia. His robes of black and gold clung to his powerful frame, and the faint smirk tugging at his lips was both infuriating and enthralling.

“Come closer, Mei,” he commanded, his voice smooth yet edged with steel.

She hesitated only a moment before stepping forward, refusing to let him see her fear. As she reached the table, she realized the hall was empty except for the two of them. No guards, no servants—just the king and his captive bride-to-be.

“Do you always dine alone, Your Majesty?” Mei asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

The king chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “Bold of you to speak so freely. Most would not dare.”

“I am not most,” Mei replied, meeting his gaze.

His smirk deepened, and he gestured for her to sit. She obeyed, reluctantly lowering herself into the seat opposite him. The table was laden with delicacies—roast duck glazed with honey, bowls of fragrant rice, and platters of rare fruits. Yet Mei found she had no appetite.

“Why the hostility?” he asked, pouring her a cup of wine. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. “Have I not been generous? Your family’s debts are erased. Your mother is cared for. And you…” His eyes swept over her, lingering just long enough to make her skin prickle. “You are dressed like a queen.”

“Generosity?” Mei scoffed, gripping the edge of the table. “You call it generosity to strip me of my freedom? To force me into a marriage I did not choose?”

The king’s gaze darkened, the air between them crackling with tension. “Freedom is an illusion, Mei. You’ve traded one cage for another, but at least this one is gilded.”

His words stung, not because they were cruel but because they carried an uncomfortable truth. Still, Mei refused to let him win this battle.

“Why me?” she demanded. “You could have chosen anyone—a noblewoman, a princess. Why take the daughter of a disgraced gambler?”

The king leaned back in his chair, studying her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. “Because you intrigue me,” he said at last. “You have fire in you, Mei. Fire that will either destroy you or make you unstoppable. I intend to find out which.”

Mei swallowed hard, unsure whether his words were a threat or a promise.

“And what if I refuse to play your game?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His smile returned, sharp and predatory. “You already are.”

Mei’s heart raced as the king raised his cup in a silent toast, his dark eyes never leaving hers. She realized, with a mixture of dread and exhilaration, that she was stepping into a dangerous game—and she was far from ready to face the man who had just made her his queen.