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The Heartless King

Princess Daphne wanted to become a widow. Or she would die trying. On the marriage proposal drafted on human flesh and written with fresh blood, the Northern King had made himself quite clear: the princess would marry, not as a queen but the lowest of concubines, not in a carriage but within a sealed coffin, not to be celebrated but to be paraded around as a war prize. If those terms were violated, he would personally prepare a grave for each and every one of her citizens. Some said the Northern King had slaughtered his entire family and signed a contract with hell itself. All Daphne wanted to do was to send him back there to pay for his crimes. The night of their wedding, she plunged her silver dagger squarely into his chest, waiting for the final heartbeat that never sounded. Only then did she realize, perhaps too late, that the heart of the Northern King never beat in the first place. —— She walked with resolution towards the man waiting in the shadows. Her steps were steady, and step by step, her fingers reached for her dress buttons, undoing them. "Your Highness, no!" Despite her nanny's shrill shrieks, she only continued, untying each of the knots that bound her chest. For a split second, or perhaps it was her imagination, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. "What are you doing?" His voice was slightly hoarse as he stared at her white swanlike neck. His vision traveled downward, but he only jerked his face away. "There will not be war." Her skin tingled from the cold, and she could no longer tell if it was from just the frill night temperature or the proximity to him. "Do you hear me? There will not be a war." He closed the gap between the two of them, reaching out for her face. Instinctively, she stepped backward, anticipating his foul touch. But biting the inner sides of her cheek, she reminded herself that she had already decided to give up her honor. This is for the kingdom, she thought as she took a deep breath. A slender finger quickly swept a tear away from her cheek, a tear she didn't even know was there. And then he turned away, his back towards her. "I want a princess, not some cheap girl willing to give herself away so easily." He put his hand to his forehead in disappointment. "That takes away from the fun of it all." Her lips trembled, and her body shivered. "There will not be a war." "If Your Highness agrees to my terms, then indeed, there will not be a war." He tossed his fur cloak towards her. "Hurry and get dressed. Because if you keep me waiting, I might just change my mind. According to you, I am a barbarian after all, and who knows what savages might do?" —— Update Schedule: One chapter/day But if you want to incentivize me writing :3 20 Golden Tickets = 1 extra chapter 50 Golden Tickets = 3 extra chapters 100 Golden Tickets = 5 extra chapters Top 200 Power Stone Ranking = 1 extra chapter Top 100 Power Stone Ranking = 2 extra chapters Top 50 Power Stone Ranking = 3 extra chapters Top 10 Power Stone Ranking = 5 extra chapters Top 3 (Lol this won't happen so won't worry about that for now) Massage Chair = 1 extra chapter Luxury Car = 2 extra chapters Dragon = 3 extra chapters (The other ones won't happen so also won't worry about that for now) Super sorry if this seems super demanding or greedy ;-; I just never realized how much motivation I needed to keep going until I started writing. —— Cover Art: Cover designed by the amazing Turtleboiii! Please also support her submission to the WSA!!! All original image credits to the original artist. I couldn’t find a way to contact the artist, so if there are issues with copyright, please message me as soon as possible (Instagram @tangerqueen_author)

Tangerqueen · 奇幻言情
分數不夠
152 Chs

A Chilled Heart

Daphne breathed in the frigid night air. It chilled her to the bone, stinging her pores and slowly seeping into her internal organs. Her heart seemed to beat slower and slower, such that she could hear each irregular thud as echoed throughout the still night. 

For the first time in a long time, it struck her how terribly cold the Northern Kingdom had been. Her face was already numb, but the wind only relentlessly pierced her again and again. The wounds seemed to have reopened, impaled over and over by these invisible daggers. 

It hurt. Both mentally and physically, she hurt so much. 

The two vials of liquid weighed heavily in her cloaks, alongside a special third concoction that she had prepared for the confrontation. 

They were so heavy, much heavier than the weight of her own heart, the heart that she had finally warmed up. 

Staring at the pinpricks of light in the distance, more than anything, Daphne missed home.