squideli

This is the story of Princess Ingrid of Ásjáheimr and Grand Commander Caym Fairburne of Sylvania Empire.


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[ R18: Mature content. ]

The tradition of royal captivity started during the rule of the Second Emperor Ludwig in the Sylvania Empire, where descendants from various kingdoms were brought as 'symbols of peace'.  The royal captives lived in an isolated palace provided with material luxury but devoid of freedom and future, like beautiful birds in locked in a jeweled cage.

Ingrid is the First Princess of Ásjáheimr and the last royal captive of the Sylvania Empire.

Having endured childhood abuse without receiving any help to heal her traumas, Ingrid has succumbed to depression. She lacks the desire to explore beyond her known life, cherishing her fragile peace as a royal captive over the thought of freedom.

But how long can she stay this way?

When Ingrid met Caym Fairburne, the Grand Commander of the Imperial Army of Sylvania, her little world have started to change.

As they navigate the dangerous landscape of rebellion, war, power struggles, and mysterious divine interventions, Ingrid finds herself captivated by the Grand Commander who stands as strong as a fortress yet as warm as the sun.

"I am a royal captive," Ingrid whispered, lowering her gaze.

"You've already mentioned that, Your Highness," Caym remarked.

Ingrid lifted her head once more. "Tell me, what is it that you're doing now?" she asked. "You are the Grand Commander. You shouldn't be entangling yourself with me, let alone be having this conversation with me."

Caym tilted his head. "I suppose that's true. But as I said, I also don't know what I'm doing right now," he admitted.

Ingrid observed Caym's dark hair, its strands capturing the ethereal glow of the moonlight. His amber eyes, with an intensity that mirrored the flames, held a gaze that seemed to penetrate the shadows. A chiseled jawline framed his face, adding a rugged yet commanding quality. His brows arched above those penetrating eyes, creating an expression that Ingrid could not read.

"Grand Commander, you've suddenly become quite handsome in my eyes," Ingrid remarked. "Don't you realize how precarious this is?"

Caym remained silent for a few moments.

"I believe I understand the peril in that," he finally said, his deep amber gaze locked on Ingrid.

War looms on the horizon, love blooms amidst chaos, and political intrigue threatens to tear them apart. Their fates entwined, Caym and Ingrid must navigate treacherous waters, their encounter shaping the destiny of nations.

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Extra tags: #dotingML #brokenFL #psychological #detailedworldbuilding #severalkingdoms #schemes #powerstruggles #divinebeings #complexplot #weaktostrong #mature

The Captive Princess

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, casting a silver hue over Ingrid's quarters. Shadows danced on the walls as she moved gracefully through the dimly lit space. The hour had long surpassed midnight, and an air of mystery hung in the quietude.

Ingrid, dressed in a long-sleeved silk nightgown that gracefully brushed the floor, made her way toward the balcony with deliberate steps. The fabric whispered as she moved, a delicate symphony that harmonized with the nocturnal serenity. The thick red curtains adorned with intricate patterns swayed slightly as Ingrid approached, and she gently parted them.

A chilly breeze greeted her as she opened the balcony door, the cold wind caressing her like a ghostly whisper. The night air was crisp, carrying the fragrance of the palace gardens and the distant scent of pine trees.

Ingrid stood on the balcony, her silhouette outlined by the silvery moonlight, a serene figure in the quietude of the night.

The Silent Routine of the Ásján Princess