Content warning: This novel contains strong non-con themes and themes of abuse, along with the misgendering of a transgender character, and depictions of gender dysphoria.

Forrest didn’t think he would ever be found.

The crisp sound of footsteps resonated throughout a large hall, and echoed across the castle’s walls, until they reached Forrest’s ears. The young man was blindfolded. He could not see a thing—Forrest could only guess, where it was that he had been brought, until one of the guards confirmed his suspicions by mentioning the King, and Forrest knew, he would not survive another day.

King Valerius was renowned for his merciless ways. There was no asking, or polite niceties with such a ruler—whatever he wanted, he would take. And if his people did not obey, then, they could bid farewell to their lives.

Forrest was shoved forward. He tripped over his own two feet, then landed across what he felt could possibly be a velvet carpet.

When the guard stepped forward to undo Forrest’s blindfold, Forrest blinked.

Standing before him, seated high atop his throne, was none other than Valerius. Forrest, it turns out, had been thrown onto the throne room’s dais—as mere prey would, in the cage of a lion.

The king’s arms were crossed. His unruly brown hair, that stopped after his ears to frame his sharp features was a mess, as always. It suited him, Forrest thought, for this man was not one to be tamed.

Eyes, blue and darkening as a rising tide, met with Forrest’s plain-onyx gaze.

There was silence in the room—and then, a scoff.

Valerius crossed his arms. He rose to his feet, to look down on Forrest’s flimsy figure. “I thought you said you would bring me a Halfling.” The King kicked at the air. He averted his chilling glare from Forrest’s for a brief moment, whilst he turned his head toward the guard responsible for Forrest’s capture.

The King pointed at Forrest, as if he were an inhuman thing, undeserving of any basic decency. “What, is this?”

“A—” The guard stuttered. “I-it is a H-Halfling, y-your Majesty.” He took a bow. “It is the only one we could find. There… are not many left. T-this one may look weak—but I swear on my life, that I have kept my part of the bargain.”

“Hm.” Valerius hummed. He raised a brow, then took a step back. “Is that so?”

Without warning, the King made a fist around Forrest’s shirt.

Valerius dragged Forrest by his collar, across the tiled, checkered ground, until Forrest was at his mercy, left with no choice but to kiss the King’s boots, along with the floor beneath their soles.

“Well, then”—Valerius kneeled to grab Forrest’s chin. He forced Forrest to look at him, with a firm grip wound tightly around Forrest’s jaw.

The king smirked. He said, “You better not disappoint me, Halfling.”