"Your Majesty."

A call to his title and a soft knock on the door woke the King from his slumber. The man raised his naked upper body groggily, glancing at the woman who's peacefully sleeping beside him. His fingers reflexively move to play with her hair, watching the way she breathes softly, skin littered with marks of his love from their passionate noon together. His light-blue eyes, though hold a look of indifference, if look closely, fondness can be seen as he gazes upon her.

"Your Majesty."

Another call of his title and Solren frowns in annoyance. He would have ignore it if it's not because he doesn't want you to lose your sleep, especially after that intense love-making where he had taken you rougher than usual. How could he not when you keep provoking him to let an outsider enter his palace? He wouldn't have minded if it were one of his people from Ilusium, but an outsider? That's equivalent to taking them as a wife and rumors would undoubtedly spread beyond the palace walls.

The King huffs at that, his irritation barely concealed as he gets off the bed and puts on a bathrobe. He's not really good at tying anything so the bathrobe ended up hanging loosely around his body, exposing his broad chest and shoulders, covering only his crotch.

He glances at the window, noting that the sun is starting to set as he walks out of his chamber. The royal servant who stands outside bow down in submission, following him from behind as he moves to another chamber for privacy.

As he walks, his eyes observes the people outside his window. As usual, most of them are trying to finish their works as fast as possible before night arrives. After all, Ilusium isn't exactly a peaceful place during nighttime.

Solren fastens his steps as he feels his abdomen starting to throb. Clenching his fists to stop the groan from escaping his lips, he quickly arrives at his destination, sweat forming on his forehead as he took a sit on a nearest chair. His back facing his royal servant since he didn't want to be seen in his most vulnerable moment.

"Speak," he commands in a stern voice. The dimming light of the setting sun casts long shadows, and with each passing moment, the pain in his abdomen worsens, creeping up to his chest.

"A letter came to Her Highness, the Crown Princess earlier," the servant speaks breathlessly from behind their mask, as if they too are enduring their own share of pain. "It seems that a 'death' in a rural village from the East has been 'rewritten.'"

The King's eyes widen at that piece of information. He seems uncharacteristically shaken as he clenches his abdomen that starts to bleed.

"What... was rewritten?"

"Originally, the people from the rural village were supposed to die either from manslaughter or... fire, but an outsider came to that village and rewritten their death."

His jaw tightens, the muscle ticking beneath his skin as he fights to keep his composure. "And? What has the East Duchess been doing? How could she not know that an outsider was roaming freely within her territory?"

"She was trying to capture her at first, but the villagers obstructed, claiming the outsider to be their 'saviour,'" they explains. "Apparently, the outsider had rewritten their death by killing off the invaders, ultimately saving them, so the Duchess let it be. She didn't expect that the outsider would rewrite their death only to kill them off again."

By now, the sun has completely set, swallowed by the horizon without leaving a single ember of its former glow. As the last vestiges of daylight disappear, the very air around Ilusium darkens, shifting from vibrant life to a suffocating gloom. Even the once immaculate chamber now reeks of burning flesh, the pungent stench of blood seeping into every crevice.

"Did the letter ever state the outsider's motives?"

The servant collapses to their knees, still trying to report as professionally as possible despite the sizzling sound that emits from their skin. "The outsider... wanted to create a 'mínghūn.'"

Before the King can question them further, a painful scream leaves their throat as fire that lit out of nowhere starts to consume them, and the servant writhes in agony.

"It hurts... Your Majesty..."

Yet the King remains unmoved. Solren doesn't even glance at the horrific scene, as if this was a natural occurence-which is correct for the people of Ilusium. Soon, the scream stops and the servant disappears without any sign that they had been there, as if they were just an illusion, and the King finally fell to his knees as his stomach splits open, gushing out blood and intestines yet he only opens his mouth to gasp, face deathly pale.

His blood incessantly pours out to stain the floor and the hole in his stomach gradually opens up to split him in half. Though he doesn't even have the strength to utter a single word, the room echoes with the voice of the past, and he can only helplessly listen to it as he experience his death once again.

"Darling, Carnation or Snowdrop, which one do you prefer?"

"Let's be fair and split you in half-one for me, and one for her."

"This will be your death where you can relive time and time again, fondly."

✾

You jolt up awake, feeling your back sore a little as you sluggishly look at the empty spot beside you. You touch the fabric, noting that there's no heat so it means that it has been long since Solren had left.

You sigh in disappointment, feeling a little lonely so you decide to soothe yourself by taking a warm bath.

The darkness makes it hard for you to find something to cover up so you simply wrap yourself with the quilt. It's long and heavy compares to a towel so you have to drag it on the floor while walking.

Fortunately, the bathroom is just inside the chamber. You have no energy to fight whatever creatures roaming outside, after all, Ilusium, at night, isn't very a safe place.

You tiredly take a heavy step when all of a sudden, the door creaks, grabbing your attention. Your eyes land on the person standing in front of the door. Though you can't make out his face, judging by the height and outline, your gut tells you that the person is Solren-your King.

"Your Majesty...?" You call out hesitantly.

The shadow takes a step closer, as if responding to your call. His cold hand extends to touch your cheek and you shiver at the temperature yet you can't help but lean closer to his touch like a cat rubbing its cheek to the hand of its owner. You notice how the tips of his hair trickle with droplets of water and how there's this refreshing smell coming from him. Did he leave me to take a bath?

"Carnation or snowdrop," he suddenly asks. "Which one do you prefer?"

You tilt your head, wondering if this is a trick question. You mull over it for a while before coming to conclusion.

"I don't like flowers," you admit, a helpless smile tugging at your lips as you reach out, pinching his cheeks gently. "Can't I just choose Your Majesty instead?"

As soon as you answered, you feel like something had shift in the air, but can't quite put a finger as to what it is. His fingers then move, slow and deliberate as if savoring the moment of the quilt drapes over your bare skin being pulled away.

"Then I'm yours to take."

With that, he leads you to the bed, starting the session once again with a kiss on your soft mounds.