chap11,Taking Over the Palace, Taming the Queen

Chapter 11: Taking Over the Palace, Taming the Queen

—— Dark Elven Empire · Royal Palace ——

As the night draped over the land, the massive gates of the palace slowly creaked open, echoing through the silent halls. Rows of dark elven guards, clad in black and gold armor, knelt on both sides of the grand entrance, heads lowered in submission, welcoming the new ruler who had seized their empire through absolute power.

The protagonist stepped inside with a steady, unhurried pace, his gaze sweeping over the palace that once belonged to the Dark Elven Queen.

The palace was the pinnacle of luxury—obsidian-carved ceilings adorned with magical star-like glimmers, violet crystal chandeliers emitting a faint, ghostly glow, and gilded magical inscriptions decorating the walls. An air of mystery and nobility permeated the atmosphere. Yet, before true power, all its splendor felt meaningless.

Beneath the throne, nobles and ministers of the Dark Elven Empire had gathered.

They knelt, their faces full of humiliation and unwillingness, yet not a single one dared to raise their head and meet his gaze.

He glanced at them indifferently, the corner of his lips lifting slightly as he spoke in a calm but commanding tone, "It seems you've accepted reality."

Their bodies trembled slightly, their heads lowering even further, not daring to utter a word in protest.

Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the grand throne, his gaze locking onto the one who still dared to sit upon it.

The Dark Elven Queen.

She was still adorned in her black and violet royal robe, her amethyst eyes cold and distant, her hands folded neatly on her lap, fingers subtly digging into her palms. Though her expression remained composed, the faint rise and fall of her chest and the slight tremor at her fingertips betrayed her inner turmoil.

She had not knelt.

She had not bowed.

Instead, she sat there, staring at him with defiance—like a black panther that refused to submit, even when caged.

The protagonist observed her with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leisurely stepped forward.

He halted before her, one hand resting casually on the armrest of the throne, his body slightly leaning forward, towering over her with an unmistakable air of dominance.

The queen's fingers clenched tighter, her amethyst eyes flashing with anger, but she knew—her fury was meaningless.

The protagonist chuckled, reaching out slowly, tilting her chin upward with his fingertips, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Still angry?" he murmured, his tone relaxed, as if he were merely teasing a rebellious pet.

The queen jerked her head away, avoiding his touch, her voice cold as ice. "Kill me, throw me into a dungeon, or whatever else you wish—but you will never see the day I submit."

He laughed softly, unbothered by her resistance. Instead, he gracefully settled into the throne—her throne.

"You think I want you to kneel and beg?" His voice carried a hint of amusement as he rested his chin on his palm, gazing at her with unhurried leisure. "No, that would be far too boring."

His eyes roamed over her, his smirk deepening.

"You can stay proud. You can stay angry. You can even hate me if you wish… but none of that will change a simple fact—"

His voice was low yet absolute, resonating throughout the silent throne room.

"From this day forward, I am the master of this palace."

—— Dark Elven Queen's Bedchamber ——

The night was deep, and moonlight bathed the luxurious chamber in a silver glow.

Without any regard for boundaries, the protagonist had claimed the queen's personal quarters for himself. He lounged on a long chair carved with obsidian patterns, lazily swirling a goblet of dark elven violet wine between his fingers, enjoying its rich aroma.

Meanwhile, standing stiffly in the corner of the room, the Dark Elven Queen clenched her fists, her chest rising and falling subtly, her gaze filled with suppressed fury.

"You dare to occupy my chambers?" she demanded coldly, her violet eyes burning with restrained anger.

The protagonist raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "What, are you going to fight me for it?"

She glared at him, her fingers turning white from the force of her grip, but after a deep breath, she scoffed and turned away, refusing to continue the argument.

However, just as she took a step toward the door, he suddenly reached out and grasped her wrist.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice low, carrying a teasing edge.

The queen snapped her head back, eyes flashing. "Are you going to keep me under watch like a prisoner?"

He smirked, his grip firm yet not forceful. "No. I just think… since you're my captive, where you sleep should be up to me."

His fingers tightened slightly, drawing her closer—close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him.

Her heartbeat faltered for a split second.

With a sharp tug, she freed herself, her breaths slightly uneven. "Shameless."

He merely laughed, shaking his goblet playfully. "Don't worry. I have plenty of patience."

—— A Certain Night—A Subtle Shift ——

One night, the protagonist stood on the palace balcony, overlooking the Dark Elven Empire's nocturnal beauty.

Not far away, the queen stood silently, gazing at the night sky as well.

Neither spoke for a long time. Then, at last, the protagonist broke the silence.

"…Do you hate me?"

The queen remained quiet for a moment before finally responding, her voice calm yet unreadable. "Do you want the truth?"

The protagonist smirked. "Of course."

She turned slightly, glancing at him with deep, enigmatic eyes. "Hatred… perhaps. But more than that—what I feel is unwillingness."

She exhaled slowly, her voice lowering. "I hate my own powerlessness… I hate that I couldn't even put up a fight…"

She opened her eyes again, the icy coldness in them slightly diminished, replaced with something more obscure.

The protagonist studied her quietly, before chuckling. "…You're more honest than I expected."

She didn't reply, simply turning away and walking back into the palace.

Yet in that brief moment before she left, her gaze flickered—just slightly.

At that moment, she realized something.

This man… might not be as simple as she had thought.