Tangerqueen

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?"

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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.

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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)

The Heartless King

The head-splitting ache returned, this time more of an explosive jab of pain rather than a dull ache. It was like something was trying to burst out of its chains, a memory that had been taken prisoner.

Steadying herself, Daphne felt her heart racing.

The Crown Prince Aurin. The Crown Prince Aurin.

The name kept on replaying, a mantra that refused to stop until it drove her fully insane.

The blue light fluttered across her forehead, barely grazing her skin. It suddenly felt as if a spring breeze had gently caressed her skin, and immediately, the world turned more quiet.

She turned to examine the painting again.

The figure was so close yet so distant.

Seeing the portrait, she suddenly understood the full meaning of the name Aurin. The golden boy. There was no doubt that this child had been the gold boy, lighting up both his home and the rest of his kingdom.

The Golden Boy