I - A DAUGHTER FOR A BRIDE, A BRIDE FOR THE LORD OF THE DEMONS

"Father! You can't be serious!?! Mother, please, reason with him!" Vidalia, a young woman of sixteen in a lavish pink gown, pleaded desperately, her voice echoing through the ornate throne room. Her parents' plan to marry her to the Emperor of Crystallia, a figure shrouded in terrifying rumors, filled her with a chilling dread.

"Silence!" the king roared, his voice a thunderclap that silenced her. "My decision is final. We need this alliance to survive!" His face, usually a mask of regal composure, was now contorted with a desperate, almost feral urgency. The queen, her expression serene but her eyes hard, echoed his sentiment.

"Your father is right, Vidalia. Think of the power, the wealth! You will be an empress, treated with the respect you deserve." Her mother's words, usually a soothing balm, now sounded like a cruel mockery. She painted a picture of glittering grandeur, but Vidalia saw only the dark shadow of the emperor looming over it.

"But I don't want to marry a stranger! To a land I've never seen! Especially not the reincarnated Demon Lord!" Vidalia's voice trembled, tears streaming down her face, blurring her vision. She sank to her knees, her elaborate gown pooling around her like a shroud. "Please, don't sacrifice me to that hellish empire!"

The empire of Crystallia was a whispered nightmare, a land of scorching deserts and monstrous inhabitants ruled by the dreaded emperor, Gladiolus Dragmire. A place where the sun seemed to wither and die, and where the air itself crackled with dark magic.

"We have no choice," the king said, his voice laced with a fear he tried to conceal. "If we refuse him, he will unleash his horrors upon us. Or worse, the Heradian assassins will strike, demanding the debts we cannot repay. They'd flay us alive for the gold we lack."

"The kingdom will fall without his support," the queen added, her voice softening slightly, but her eyes remained cold. "He promises wealth, stability. For us, for the people. Vidalia, please understand. We need this to survive."

But their words were lost on Vidalia. Fear, cold and sharp, gripped her heart. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving her home, her family, for such a terrifying fate. "I don't care about your debts or your power! I won't be a pawn in your schemes!" she cried, her voice rising in defiance.

A sharp, stinging slap silenced her. The king's hand had struck her across the face, leaving a red mark on her pale cheek. The queen watched, her expression unreadable, a strange mix of pity and cold resolve.

"Listen well," the king said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "You will marry Emperor Gladiolus Dragmire. You will bear him an heir, securing our kingdoms' power. Refuse, and I will find you a far older, richer husband, who will still serve our purposes. You will be used, one way or another."

Vidalia trembled, her father's greed and desperation a chilling reflection of her mother's. They cared only for themselves, for the survival of their power.

As Vidalia's despair deepened, a cruel smile spread across the queen's face. "Perhaps," she said, her voice laced with cunning, "we have another solution."

The king, taken aback, stared at his wife. "What do you mean?"

"Vidalia is too young, too precious," the queen said, her eyes glinting with a predatory light. "We need a more…suitable bride for the emperor. Someone who won't be missed as much."

A flicker of understanding, and a dark satisfaction, crossed the king's face. "The other one," he murmured, his voice laced with a grim amusement.

"Yes," the queen said, her voice smooth and persuasive. "He asked for our daughter's hand, not for Vidalia specifically. It will work perfectly."

Vidalia stared at her parents, confused. "What other daughter? I don't understand."

The king sighed, a theatrical display of regret. "It was…unfortunate. She was born…different. Her appearance, her…abilities. They were…unsettling. Unnatural. We feared what she represented. We feared the gods had cursed us."

"She was born with white hair, olive skin, lilac eyes, and…those ears," the queen added, her voice laced with disgust, gesturing vaguely to her own human ears. "Those pointed, elven ears. And then there were the…incidents. Objects floating, fires starting, all when she cried. It was…witchcraft. We couldn't risk it. We couldn't risk the kingdom."

"So you gave her away?" Vidalia asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "You abandoned your own daughter?"

"We found a…suitable family," the king said, dismissing her concerns. "They were staff, loyal. They understood the…necessity. It was for the best."

"For the best?" Vidalia repeated, her voice filled with scorn. "For the best for whom? You?"

"Enough!" the king roared. "She will serve her purpose. She will marry the emperor, and we will be free of this burden."

"Call for Hydra," the queen commanded, her voice ringing through the hall. "Tell her the king and queen require her presence. Immediately."

Vidalia's eyes widened. Hydra? she thought, the name familiar but distant. She had seen the quiet maid, efficient and diligent, but never paid her much attention. Now, a chilling realization dawned upon her.

Meanwhile, Hydra, unaware of the sinister plot unfolding, worked diligently in the castle's less frequented areas. She cleaned, she scrubbed, she toiled, grateful for the elderly couple who had raised her as their own. She believed them to be her birth parents, unaware of the royal blood that coursed through her veins, and the dark secret that tied her to the king and queen. They knew her secret, the truth of her past life, a secret she kept from the world.

A breathless staff member found her, interrupting her work. "Hydra," they said, their voice urgent. "The king and queen have summoned you. They say it is urgent."