Kieran's POV
The guards threw me into a bedroom in the north tower and slammed the door shut. I collapsed against the wall, gasping for air like I'd just run a marathon.
I was alive. Somehow, impossibly, I was still alive.
Theron could've killed me right there in the throne room. Should've killed me. Instead, he'd looked at me with those burning golden eyes and decided to keep me prisoner. I didn't know if that was better or worse than immediate execution.
My hands were still shaking. My throat ached where he'd grabbed me, and I could feel bruises forming under my skin. But I was breathing. That counted for something.
The System chimed in my vision, making me jump.
[QUEST COMPLETE: Survive First Encounter with Male Lead #1]
[REWARD: +5% Devotion. Current Status - Prince Theron: 5% Devotion, 93% Hatred]
[WARNING: Devotion gained through pity and confusion. Not sustainable. You must make him WANT you, not just spare you.]
Five percent. Out of one hundred. I had twenty-nine days left and I'd barely made a dent.
And ninety-three percent of Theron still wanted me dead.
I buried my face in my hands, trying not to scream. How was I supposed to do this? How could I make someone fall in love with me when they hated every cell in my body?
[NEW QUEST UNLOCKED: The Royal Ball]
My head snapped up. "What?"
[In three hours, Prince Theron will attend the Annual Victory Ball celebrating the empire's military successes. As his prisoner, you are REQUIRED to attend. This is your opportunity to make a public declaration of submission.]
[MANDATORY OBJECTIVE: Kneel before Prince Theron in front of the entire noble court and offer yourself completely. Reward: +10% Devotion. Failure: Execution moved to tomorrow morning.]
My stomach dropped through the floor.
"You want me to kneel in front of everyone?" I whispered. "In front of hundreds of nobles who all hate me?"
[Correct. Public submission shows genuine remorse and triggers protective instincts. This is your fastest path to survival.]
"Or it gets me killed faster when someone in that crowd decides to stab me!"
[Risk level: High. Survival probability: 47%. However, failure to complete this quest guarantees death. Choose wisely.]
I wanted to punch the stupid floating screen. Forty-seven percent chance of survival? Those were terrible odds!
But the alternative was guaranteed execution tomorrow.
I had no choice. Again.
Three hours later, guards escorted me down to the ballroom. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might explode. Every step felt like walking toward my own grave.
Music and laughter echoed from behind massive golden doors. Through the crack, I could see hundreds of nobles in fancy clothes, drinking wine and dancing like they didn't have a care in the world.
These people all knew what Lysander had done. They'd probably cheered when they heard about my arrest.
"Move," one guard grunted, shoving me forward.
The doors opened and every single head turned toward me.
The music stopped. Conversations died mid-sentence. Someone dropped their wine glass and it shattered on the marble floor.
Everyone stared at me with expressions ranging from shock to pure hatred. I heard whispers starting up like angry wasps buzzing.
"That's Duke Corvith—"
"I heard the prince arrested him—"
"Why isn't he dead already?"
My legs felt like jelly but I forced myself to walk into the ballroom. The crowd parted like I had the plague, leaving a clear path straight to the front where Prince Theron stood talking with military officers.
He saw me and his golden eyes flashed with surprise, then something darker. Anger that I was here? Or curiosity about what I'd do next?
The System blazed in my vision: [QUEST ACTIVE: Complete submission NOW or fail permanently.]
This was it. My one chance to prove I wasn't the monster Lysander used to be.
I walked straight toward Theron, ignoring the hateful stares burning into my back. Ignoring the whispers growing louder. Ignoring every instinct screaming at me to run.
When I reached him, I didn't hesitate. I dropped to my knees right there in front of everyone, my head bowed low.
The entire ballroom gasped as one.
"Your Highness," I said loudly enough for everyone to hear. My voice shook but I kept going. "I deserve death for what I did to your mother. I destroyed your family for power and there's no excuse for that evil."
Theron's eyes went wide. He hadn't expected this. Nobody had.
I raised my head to look directly at him, letting everyone see the tears on my face. Real tears because I was absolutely terrified and this felt insane.
"I won't run from punishment. I won't beg for mercy I don't deserve." I took a shaking breath. "I'm yours—for punishment, for vengeance, for whatever you desire. My life belongs to you now. Do with it what you will."
Absolute silence crashed through the ballroom. You could've heard a pin drop.
Theron stared at me like I'd grown a second head. His mouth opened slightly but no words came out. His officers looked just as shocked.
Someone in the crowd shouted, "It's a trick! He's manipulating you, Your Highness!"
"Execute him now!" another voice yelled.
"He deserves to suffer!"
The crowd started getting louder, angrier, calling for my blood. I stayed on my knees, head bowed, waiting for Theron's response. My heart pounded so hard I felt dizzy.
This could go very, very wrong.
Theron's hand suddenly gripped my chin, forcing my head up. His golden eyes burned into mine, searching for something. Truth? Lies? I didn't even know anymore.
"Stand up," he commanded quietly.
I struggled to my feet on shaking legs. He didn't let go of my chin, holding me in place while his gaze bore into me like he could see straight through to my soul.
"You offer yourself to me?" he asked, his voice dangerous and low. "Completely?"
"Yes," I whispered. "I'm yours."
Something flashed across his face—surprise, hunger, confusion all mixed together. His thumb brushed across my lower lip and I stopped breathing.
"Careful what you offer, Duke Corvith," he said softly, but loud enough for the crowd to hear. "I might take you up on it in ways you didn't expect."
Before I could respond, the ballroom doors exploded inward with a deafening crash.
A man strode in—tall, muscular, with auburn hair and wild green eyes that looked slightly insane. Scars covered his exposed arms and one ran down the side of his face. He wore a military uniform but it was rumpled like he'd thrown it on in a hurry.
Everything about him screamed dangerous.
I knew this face too. Sir Caius Wrenhart. The knight Lysander had tortured.
And he was staring directly at me with murder in his eyes.
"There you are," Caius growled, his hand dropping to the sword at his hip. "I've been looking for you, Lysander."
The crowd backed away quickly, giving him space. Theron's hand tightened on my chin before releasing me, his expression turning cold.
"Sir Caius," Theron said carefully. "This isn't the time—"
"Isn't the time?" Caius laughed, but it sounded broken and wrong. "I've waited six years for this. Six years of nightmares. Six years of waking up screaming because I can still feel what he did to me." His sword slid from its sheath with a metallic ring that echoed through the silent ballroom. "I'm going to kill him. Right here. Right now. And nobody's going to stop me."
He started walking toward me, sword raised, eyes blazing with six years of pain and rage.
The System flashed: [CRITICAL DANGER: Male Lead #2 Hatred Level: 100%. Will kill on sight. Survive the next 60 seconds or DIE.]
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything but watch as the man I'd tortured came to finally get his revenge.