The hall smelled of blood… but beneath it… something sweeter lingered.
Desire. Submission. Fear.
Selena's chest rose and fell, her pulse hammering against her ribs as Arthur's gaze pinned her in place — silver eyes, impossible to decipher, holding a storm behind their stillness.
She stood at the crossroads of her fate.
Behind her, the body of Katarina still smoldered, crimson staining the polished marble in ugly, sprawling shapes. The scent of burned flesh tainted the air. Her family was gone — erased from existence the moment betrayal kissed her thoughts.
That… was the cost.
Arthur tilted his head, his expression unreadable. His voice was silk woven with blades.
"Decide, Selena," he whispered, stepping so close she could feel the impossible cold radiating from his skin. "Daughter… untouchable… powerful… feared."
His hand ghosted along her jaw, trailing down the column of her throat, lingering above the steady pulse beneath her porcelain skin.
"Or woman…" His lips curved, fangs peeking through, dangerous, possessive. "Mine."
The room held its breath. The concubines—those creatures carved from nightmares and beauty—watched, jealousy twisting behind their perfect masks.
Selena's eyes glistened with unshed tears — pride or fear, even she wasn't sure. But her voice, when it came, was steady.
"I choose…" She hesitated, for only a heartbeat, the last moment of her old self lingering at the edges of oblivion.
Then it broke.
"I choose to be yours… as a woman."
Arthur's smile sharpened, predatory satisfaction blooming across his face.
"So be it."
The decision sealed her fate.
And like shadows folding into themselves, the room shifted.
The great hall's walls retracted, morphing — not physically, but reality bent under Arthur's will. The scene transformed, pulling them into a new chamber, impossibly vast, carved from black stone veined with crimson. Heavy silk curtains swayed as if breathed upon by invisible winds. A bed—massive, ancient, draped in velvet and furs—sat elevated upon a platform of onyx, its frame carved with symbols older than language.
Candles flickered along the edges, their flames burning with unnatural hues—some crimson, others blue, one or two green like the cursed fire of a funeral pyre.
Arthur stood before the bed, his presence drowning the space in dominance.
The concubines gathered near, their figures adorned in silken robes barely concealing the curves that had driven empires to ruin. Their eyes, now marked by their true colors of ambition and loyalty, glittered in the low light.
Arthur's voice resonated, calm yet unyielding.
"Tonight," he declared, gaze sweeping over them, lingering briefly on Selena, "you are all the same."
His eyes hardened, glacial silver turning sharp as blades.
"Forget the titles. Forget the legacy. You are mine… flesh… mind… soul. Submissive to my will."
Selena flinched faintly, the weight of those words heavy—but there was no going back.
Arthur's expression softened at the edges, yet the cruelty never left his tone.
"None shall touch you… or your families," he assured them, stepping closer, the faintest click of his boots against stone like death whispering promises. "Unless… your mind falters."
A low ripple of unease passed through the women. He continued, voice lethal in its quiet authority.
"You do not betray me with steel… or schemes… no," Arthur's smirk curved, knowing, ancient. "It begins… here."
His fingers tapped gently against his temple.
"The moment you… imagine treason…" His eyes narrowed, a faint glimmer of amusement dancing within the cold. "Your body… combusts. Your family… your bloodline… vanishes. Erased."
The concubines stiffened, some trembling, others raising their chins in defiance. But all understood—the law of Virelith was absolute.
Arthur drifted closer to Selena, his footsteps silent once more—hovering, ethereal, untethered by gravity or mercy.
He cupped her face, tilting her chin upward.
"You chose the cage of silk, little one," he murmured, thumb grazing her lower lip. "Equal to them… no more voice… no more power… only submission."
Selena's breath caught—fear tangled with something darker… desire… ancient and new.
Around them, the concubines approached the bed, their robes falling like whispers of sin to the floor, revealing bodies sculpted for worship and destruction alike. Their forms were perfection molded to Arthur's desires—ample curves, sharp edges, dangerous beauty designed to ignite envy in all who gazed upon them.
Lady Evelyne climbed onto the bed first, crimson eyes glowing with unwavering devotion. Isold followed, her golden gaze gleaming with quiet pride. Amara, trembling at the edges, yet unable to resist. Mireille, Keiko, Zaria, Anya—all claimed their place, circling Arthur, their jealousy simmering beneath practiced obedience.
Arthur's hand lingered on Selena's cheek, savoring her hesitation.
"Welcome… to my bed… and your new existence," he whispered, voice a velvet noose tightening around her choices.
With one final glance toward the dying embers of her old life… Selena stepped forward, discarding the remnants of power that once set her apart.
The silk fell from her shoulders, pooling at her feet like surrender incarnate.
Arthur's eyes darkened, molten silver devouring her.
The night stretched on, soaked in shadows, sin, submission.
They were his now.
And in the silence after desire… only his word remained.