The kings Demand

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.

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