“Quimora, are you in there?” Zeus knocked on Quimora’s door thrice but got no response. As the door creaked open, revealing a world cloaked in twilight, he noticed the sorrowful figure of Quimora, isolated amidst the shadows. Her melancholic gaze pierced through the dimness, lost in contemplation as if she were stranded in a sea of her thoughts.

“Quimora, are you alright?” Zeus asked as he sat beside Quimora on her bed.

Quimora weeped. “Brother, I only wanted to help. However… I suppose even I don't want to get involved. Should I just stay put? I don’t want our family to be broken.”

“Is this about father’s affairs? Don’t worry about that, Quimora. I’m sure our father will find a way to resolve this. Your help is highly appreciated. Just do what you think is right.”

Who is this man!? He speaks like a customer service representative who had a harem in his bedroom. Since this man isn’t blood-related, should I be worried? I thought.

Quimora replied, “Thank you, brother. I know I can depend on you on this. We’re family after all.”

“You can always count on me, Quimora. If you need further help, don’t hesitate to call me. I’m always right next door.”

As Zeus left the room, those last words marked warmth through Quimora’s heart. For an incest route, I personally disliked that guy. I don’t like where this is going.

And here we are! The day before the family bubble popped, Quimora sneaked out of the house and ran towards the Empire Palace. The guards stopped Quimora who was forcing her way in through the gate.

“Empire’s orders! Those who don’t have an appointment shall back off. Else, you’ll be miserably punished,” a guard warned.

“Let me in! I have an appointment with Your Majesty! This is an important matter!”

“You? A kid? Don’t pull pranks on us!” The guard shouted but handed a single cent of coin. “Here, a penny. Go play with someone else.” They tried to brush off Quimora, however, she didn’t back off.

“What are we going to do with this kid?” The other guard asked.

The guard sighed. “It’s too late to apologize. Rules are rules. We will send him inside to say her final words to the majesty.” He gazed at Quimora and said, “Here’s the appointment that you’ve been waiting for, little girl. Just so you know, it won’t last, since this will be the last.

In the ancient chambers of the opulent throne room, where power and majesty converged, a band of royal guards emerged, their armor gleaming under the flickering torchlight. With solemn determination, they escorted her through labyrinthine corridors, each step echoing their unwavering commitment to their sovereignty.

As they approached the throne, Quimora's heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. However, nothing could have prepared her for the sight that awaited him. Seated upon the ornate golden throne, adorned with precious jewels, was not the king he had envisioned. Instead, her eyes beheld a frail and struggling maid, her body wracked with pain.

The king is a short, pallid skinned man with soulful, pale gray eyes, a round face, thin eyebrows, and a softly shaped jaw. He has coiled, deep brunette hair layered with blue-violet dye, and seems mad. To further summarize his appearance, he is ugly af.

Quimora's mind swirled with confusion. A chorus of whispers filled the air as courtiers exchanged furtive glances, their faces etched with concern and bewilderment. Her gaze remained fixed upon the maid, her heart aching with empathy.

“And who the heck is this?” The king, Skade, asked.

“Your majesty, this kid claimed to have an appointment with you. However, she didn’t have any written and sealed documents that prove it,” the guard replied.

“Haha! Excellent! What a lovely lady compassionate for her death to embrace her bravery before me!” Skade exclaimed. “You seemed young. How old are you?”

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“I’m eight years old… I suppose,” Quimora replied.

“You suppose? Never mind. I ruled this empire at the age of eight and still sat on the living for seven years. However, your morals ain’t befitting to speak before a noble. What’s your ploy?”

Quimora stood up with her chin up and chest out and shouted, “I want to be your queen, your majesty!”

The air became a thick soup of silence, heavy and suffocating. The guards and servants alike found their eyes growing wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Quimora's awkward words hung in the air for an eternity, casting an uncomfortable shadow over the room.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, the king's laughter erupted, shattering the silence. It was a hearty, booming sound, and it filled the hall with an unexpected warmth. The tension dissolved, and the room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“What the heck! You, a young commoner, wanted to marry the highest life form in existence? I highly suggest that you don’t abuse my single status and play pranks here. It’s their fault that they don’t accept me as their partner. They’re dead, either way.”

What an incel. I thought. I don’t like how dumb people are abnormally distributed in this world. Though this motivates me to destroy this world, I suppose I don’t fall for Roze’s traps.

“I–I just want to save my family! I suppose this is the only way to resolve this. I love my family, and I don’t want them to get hurt.”

“Oh, I see a negotiation game. What’s your name?”

“Quimora…”

“From the Wallenstein manor? I can see why you’re so desperate. Those four guillotines are already displayed in public. I can’t let my nobles down when I call the show-off. But since you have nice skin…” Skade walked down the stairs of the higher ground and rubbed Quimora’s arm. He nodded with a grunt, “This will do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m considering your family. You’re lucky that I’m generous enough to extend their contract for a year. However, you will never leave this palace unless I instruct you to. If you want to marry me, that’s fine! Seven years will easily pass. I hope you surpass my expectations to become my perfect wife.”

Oh, I see. He’s looking for a unicorn, that’s why he’s dead shut when handling rejection. That ain’t badass though, but it’s better than a kiddie groomer, I thought.

Quimora kneeled on the floor, facing down, and shouted, “I will do my best, Your Majesty! I swore to become your perfect partner!”

Skade clapped and shouted, “Emilie! Can someone call Emilie!?”

A guard rushed out and brought a stocky, ruddy-skinned woman with tired, black eyes, a cleft chin, and a round face. She has curly, dark yellow hair, has numerous piercings, and wears lime blush, butterscotch eyeshadow, and pinkish lipstick. Her huge colorful fan made her the peacock, whereas her thick eyebrows emitted her deadly strict aura.

“Emilie, train your new underling like she’s five. Make her suffer for her choice. If she lives, that would be the only reason that she’s the perfect woman to marry a king like me. Don’t ever let her leave the palace, or you will know what will happen.”

Emilie closed her fan and slapped it to Quimora’s back. Quimora nearly cried when Emilie hit her. The loud sound echoed across the corners of the throne room. “Aye, thy majesty, thy will be my command,” Emilie replied with dignity.

She dragged Quimora’s clothes to force her to stand up and follow her. “Come on, don’t slow me down. Don’t you want to become the king’s bride? Then patch yourself! I didn’t hire someone torpid.”

“Yes… ma’am…” Quimora replied as her mouth shook uncontrollably.

Quimora's footsteps echoed alongside Emilie's hurried gait. Their hasty stride led them through a labyrinthine maze of corridors. As they ventured deeper, the air grew heavy with anticipation.

Finally, they reached a narrow room, its walls adorned with intricate tapestries that told stories of old. In the center stood a single rugged bed, weathered by time, and a desk lamp that flickered feebly. Its walls have a single window that can’t be closed.

“Quimora, right? This will be your room. You can sit there first, and I’ll explain everything later,” Emilie commanded as she closed the door.

Quimora perched upon the bed's edge, her gaze drifting through the windowpane. Suddenly, a warm embrace enveloped her from behind, a silent caress that enveloped her like a comforting embrace. As the embrace lingered, a gentle sobbing whispered through the air, audible only to her senses.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry that you’re going through this.”

“M–Miss Emilie?”

“I know it hurts. You shouldn’t have come here. It will only hurt you more than you know. I’m sorry if I hit you earlier. I’m sorry if your family is currently in trouble because of the king.”

“It’s not your fault, Miss Emilie,” Quimora replied, then sobbed after. The burden of unexpressed emotions weighed heavily upon her, threatening to shatter the fragile vessel that encased her beating core. Each passing moment seemed to intensify the agony, as if the pain inside her were a raging inferno, consuming her from within. “ I…I don’t know what I should do… I just want for my family… To be happy…”