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... ng and a beautiful chandelier hanging above her.

She turned around to check her surroundings and saw the room look dim, but she still clearly saw she was inside the luxury Victorian-style bedroom.

’Did Xavier bring me to his new house?’ Iris wonders while trying to sense Xavier’s aura.

However, after trying, Iris was shocked when she realized she couldn’t feel any familiar aura around her. Not only was there a familiar aura, but she felt like she was alone in that place. ...

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One imperial edict and the family’s calculation, the sweet, adorable her met the cold him that was up high. She became his little princess consort. Everyone said that Prince Ying of Western Xuan Empire was shockingly ugly, cold-blooded and ruthless. They laughed at her that she had mistakenly entered the tiger’s den with her life in danger. But she just laughed that everyone in the world couldn’t see the wider picture, and were stupid and ignorant. The ugly appearance was actually beyond gorgeous, cold-blooded was actually gentle and sweet. She only wanted to hide him away and not allow other people to peep at him. “Big Ice Cube, take off your mask and let this princess have a look!” She propped up her chin with saliva flowing down.

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

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Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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