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

Ingrid lay on her side in her bed, her gaze fixed on the soft glow emanating from the lamp beside her. The room was cast in a gentle ambiance, accentuating the delicate silk of her nightgown and the silver cascade of her hair.

"Was it really a prophecy, or merely a nightmare?" she murmured to herself, the weight of the recent events lingering in her thoughts.

After the emotional outpouring with Christine, questions swirled in Ingrid's mind like a tempest. Before she knew it, it was already nighttime.

The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the subtle sound of her own breaths.

Suddenly, her contemplation was interrupted by a delicate sound—a fluttering of feathers.

Ingrid slowly sat up, her gaze shifting to the foot-tall wooden figurine of a dancing lady on a nearby table. There, perched gracefully atop the figurine, was the pigeon from that afternoon. Its dark, beady eyes fixed on Ingrid as if carrying a message of its own.

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