Roosevolt Kingdom
Standing with a stoic expression on his face, his personal guard Drew behind him, Lazarus bowed to greet his parents. His movements were practiced, almost mechanical. With a cold, indifferent tone, he asked,
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Umm, yes, actually. But first, I want you to listen to us patiently," his mother said, her eyes glinting with genuine concern.
"Son, we have decided to fix your marriage to a girl from the Liliac Kingdom," explained his father, King Alexander.
"Since we have already provided them with military support and the King regards the girl as his foster daughter, this mutual alliance will further strengthen the relations between our kingdoms."
Those words made a deep frown appear on Drew's face.
He thought to himself, 'Ha! Old King, you are gone. Did they forget what Master did to me when I merely wished him out loud for a mate? And now they are setting him up in a forced marriage?'
Just thinking about the possible punishments brought a smug smirk to his face.
'Oh! My old Majesty, I sincerely hope my Master takes your old age into consideration.' He laughed darkly in his head.
As Lazarus's expression darkened significantly, his mother's cautious voice rang out, "Dear, you do not have to agree to the marriage right away. Since you are a king already, we thought it best to arrange a few meetings for you and the girl. If you do not like her, you can deny the proposal later. But I think there is no harm in meeting her, right?" She tried her best to persuade him to at least meet Rose. Maybe, as her husband claimed, Lazarus would finally stop waiting for a mate that did not exist.
Did they really just do it? Even his mother?
He understood he was cursed, but what about the loyalty and devotion he held for his other half? What if, someday, the curse broke, and he found his true mate? He did not want to live with the regret of having given up.
He had vowed to remain ardent, loyal, unwavering in his wait.
Just when he was about to voice his refusal, a sudden voice interrupted him.
'Go there. Let us see her,' it commanded.
The hell?
His vampire self had never interfered with his choices unless it was a matter of life and death. And those rare commands had always turned out to be for his benefit.
His strong stance on rejecting the meeting now wavered.
Why would his other side want this?
The voice disappeared without further explanation.
He decided to trust his instinct one more time.
"Hmm. Tell me the dates when the meetings are set," he said in a stony tone and left as if nothing out of the ordinary just took place.
The smug smirk on Drew's face instantly vanished. With his mouth and eyes wide open, he stared at Lazarus disappearing figure in disbelief. He was not alone. His mother and Drew both looked utterly astonished as Lazarus walked out.
"Did he just agree?!" they exclaimed in unison.
"Didn't I tell you?" Alexander said with an evil glint in his eyes. Both Drew and Esme's enthusiasm faded quickly when they noticed the eerie satisfaction on the King's face.
They knew he was up to something.
"Let us all move to the Liliac Kingdom's premises and meet our would-be daughter-in-law."
A Few Days Later
Liliac Kingdom
The general's daughter's chambers buzzed with activity. Whispers and hurried footsteps filled the air as the news of the meeting and the presence of the Dark Lord spread across the palace. Everyone was tense, but no one more than the maids helping prepare Rose.
Unlike Rose, who was visibly eager, the rest of the kingdom was terrified. Just hours ago, the former King and Queen of Roosevolt had arrived.
The current King, the infamous Lazarus, was expected any moment.
The maids fluttered about, trying to perfect Rose's appearance. Their expressions ranged from pitiful to mournful.
One of them could not hold it in anymore. "Oh God! What was the avail of being so beautiful and kind? Now, she is being used as a sacrifice."
"Not used," another maid countered gently. "Did you not hear? Our King gave her a choice. She chose to save us all. She's selfless. But yes, it pains me to think she is being sent into the claws of a monster. Who knows if we will ever see her again."
This maid, Emme, had taken care of Rose since childhood. She wiped at her teary eyes. "She is like a daughter to me. It aches my heart to see her in this state."
Listening to their conversation with a bored expression, Rose rolled her eyes and stood up.
"Emme, I am going out for a walk in the palace garden. Do not worry, I will be back soon."
Without waiting for a reply, she slipped out of the chamber. She had her reasons. Her heart was pounding in anticipation. She could sense him.
She hoped to catch a glimpse.
Striding through the hallway and out into the garden, she was suddenly halted by soft whimpering sounds. Curious, she turned to look for the source.
Eventually, she found it, a tiny bunny tangled in the grapevine.
Her heart melted. She rushed to free the creature and held it gently in her arms.
"Look, bunny, how easy it was to free you," she whispered, petting it softly. "Everything is not as terrible as it seems. Sometimes, just a little effort is all it takes."
Her mind drifted to the one she was meant to meet. The cause of her sleepless nights and dark circles.
Glancing at the bunny's adorable face, she was reminded of the first time she had seen him, even if only in a painting.
One Year Ago
Rose's POV
I was sneaking toward the golden chambers.
A place where the kingdom's most treasured artifacts were kept.
Constantly glancing over my shoulder, I ensured no one followed me. Reaching the large, ornate doors, I pulled out the stolen key I had swiped from Mother that morning. Carefully inserting it into the lock, I heard the click of it opening.
I stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind me.
Rumors had swirled that a painting of the Dark Lord, crafted by a master artist, had been stored here. A painting so haunting and beautiful that people from other kingdoms had tried to buy it for millions.
"Mother would never let me near it. But who is stopping me now?"
With a childish grin, I made my way forward and stopped in front of a large canvas draped in white cloth.
I reached up slowly, my heart thudding, and pulled the cloth away.
A deep, pained stare greeted me.
His eyes locked with mine, or at least, it felt that way. My gaze traveled down from his sharp cheekbones to his perfectly sculpted nose, then finally to his lips. His bottom lip was fuller than the top.
Holy cow. What a specimen of a man. So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him.
He stood proud and regal, emanating power. The Dark Lord. The King of Roosevolt. Behind all that menacing aura, I saw something else sorrow, loneliness, longing. The artist had captured it all.
These eyes were not those of a killer. They begged for love, not blood.
I did not know why, but I knew I wanted to give him that love.
Present
A sudden scuttling noise pulled her back to the present. She looked behind her.
And froze.
Lazarus, dressed in black and flanked by Drew, had been making his way toward the palace when he heard a soft voice. It was unlike anything he had heard before. No screams. No sobs. Just softness.
Intrigued, he followed the sound.
And there she was.
A girl crouched on the ground, speaking to a rabbit. Her voice felt like a balm to his soul.
As if sensing him, she turned.
Their eyes met.
The world stilled.
Everything else disappeared. The gardens, the sky, even the soft rustling wind faded into silence.
Time slowed.
He studied her. Not just her face, but the essence of her. The gentle way she held the bunny, the sparkle of wonder in her eyes, the natural grace in her posture.
The bond surged through his chest like lightning.
His heart, long thought to be made of stone thundered.
Drew glanced between them, confused.
Lazarus took a step forward, almost against his will, like some force pulled him.
Lazarus's eyes softened, just a little.
He couldn't believe it. Is this an illusion? Has he finally lost his mind due to pain?
For the first time in decades, hope dared to bloom in his cursed heart.
And then, one word escaped his lips, a breathless whisper that danced in the air like fate itself had spoken :
"Mate."