Elise sat poised on the velvet-cushioned chair, hands folded gracefully in her lap. Her dress—a delicate weave of different shades of green—fluttered gently in the soft breeze. It was her favorite picnic dress, simple yet elegant.
The venue was breathtaking. A stoned pergola sheltered her from the sun while opening to a flawless view of the river. The water glistened like scattered diamonds under the sunlight. The table before her was set with pastries, fruits, and tea, arranged with meticulous care.
And yet…
Her nerves were knotted so tightly, she could barely appreciate the beauty around her.
Why is he late?
She had requested—no, demanded—this meeting with the King of Kingwood. If she was being forced into marriage, she wanted to at least follow her mother's advice: get to know him, even just a little.
But, of course, he kept her waiting. Weeks of notice, and he still chose to arrive on his own time.
Elise sighed sharply, folding her arms.
Then—hoofbeats. Strong. Steady. Drawing closer.
Her heart leapt as the horse stopped just beyond the clearing.
The man who dismounted was…
Elise rose instinctively, but her breath caught.
By the stars…
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Effortlessly imposing. His hair was jet-black, styled perfectly, not a strand out of place. But it was his eyes that struck her the most—piercing blue, like winter ice under sunlight. Beautiful, but devoid of warmth.
Was this truly the infamous King of Kingwood? She hadn't expected… this.
"Princess Elise," he greeted, voice smooth but carrying an undertone of steel. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Likewise, Your Majesty," Elise replied with a polite smile, though it was tight. "Though… you are remarkably late."
"Oh?" He tilted his head, completely unbothered. "I suppose I am. I'm a busy man." He walked past her without so much as a bow.
Elise's smile tightened further. Did he really just brush that off without an apology? What a gentleman.
She retook her seat, hands folding neatly to hide her clenched fists.
Lucien pulled out his chair, dropped into it—not with the grace of royalty, but with the ease of someone who couldn't care less for appearances. He leaned back, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his posture practically oozing arrogance.
Elise bit her tongue. Breathe. Stay composed.
"Princess Elise of Elmore," he began, smirking. "They said you were tall. You look… rather short to me."
Her eyes narrowed. "I am not short. You're just… obscenely tall."
"Hmm." His smirk deepened. "Fair enough."
Then his expression shifted, sharpening. "Tell me… why did you arrange this meeting? Curiosity? Or did your worthless father shove you into it to stop breathing down your neck?"
Her hand slammed onto the table before she could stop herself. Teacups rattled.
Lucien arched an eyebrow, amused.
"Forgive me," Elise said coolly, withdrawing her hand with forced grace. "My hand… it was itchy. And no. This was my idea."
His gaze held hers, assessing. Then he leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering. "Good. Then let me make something very clear, Princess."
"Once we are married, I expect full obedience. I won't tolerate disobedience from my wife. Your actions will reflect upon me—and I don't take kindly to rebellion. And should you ever think of being unfaithful… know this: I will hunt down any man foolish enough to touch what is mine… and you will face severe consequences. Are we clear?"
The chill in his voice made the sunny afternoon feel suddenly cold.
Elise didn't flinch. Her face smoothed into a mask of perfect composure, her green eyes gleaming with defiance.
"Crystal clear," she replied. "And I will expect the exact same from you, Your Majesty. Fidelity. Obedience. And if you stray…" she tilted her head, smiling sweetly, "I promise to make sure you face consequences as well."
For the first time, Lucien blinked, surprise flickering briefly across his face before morphing into something else—something dangerously close to amusement.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He stood abruptly, turning toward his waiting horse.
"Wait—you're leaving?" Elise asked, startled. "You just got here."
"I have other matters to attend to," he said, already swinging into the saddle. "I don't have the luxury of playing tea party."
He paused, fixing her with that same icy gaze. "Oh… and one more thing."
His tone darkened, though his smile remained. "Once we are married… I expect all my rights as a husband to be fulfilled. Every. Single. One."
Elise stiffened, her stomach twisting at the implication. Disgust prickled her skin.
"Goodbye, Princess."
"Goodbye… King Lucien," she forced out, his name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
With a flick of the reins, he turned his horse and rode away without looking back.
Elise watched him disappear down the path, her hands curling into fists in her lap.
Monstrous? No. Not exactly.
But rude. Arrogant. Overbearing.
And without question…
She did not like him.