Flower in the Trap - Chapter 1

Night had fallen, the moon swallowed by thick clouds. Darkness seeped in like viscous ink. Candlelight flickered weakly, casting a hazy glow across the room, while the air hung heavy with tension, laced with something both ambiguous and stifling.

Linaelina sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers clutching her skirt tightly as her heart pounded.

On the bed before her lay a man, sprawled across silk sheets, his white nightgown carelessly parted. In the wavering light, the line of his collarbone flowed down to a sculpted abdomen, every contour limned in gold and shadow. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and his flushed skin glistened faintly.

That bowl of soup which Linaelina bought herself was silently taking effect.

She bit down on her lower lip, heat blooming across her cheeks. She had taken a few gulps of wine for courage, but it did little to steady her. Her body trembled and her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. She knew she didn’t have the luxury to hesitate and if she did, it would all be too late.

Taking a deep breath, Linaelina forced herself to climb onto the bed, trembling as she straddled the man’s waist.

“Princess…?” the man breathed, lids heavy as his eyes cracked open. His voice was rough and low, thick with barely restrained desire.

“I’m sorry… I have no choice…” Linaelina lowered her head, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper. Her trembling fingertips gently pressed against the man’s burning chest. Her breathing stagnated, and she didn’t dare meet his gaze.

Inexperienced and clumsy, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was as light as a feather, hesitant and timid.

Kaellian narrowed his eyes and in the candlelight, his pupils were as deep as obsidian. The situation he was in made him scoff inwardly. He, crown prince of Tanova, born of a proud bloodline and heir to a legacy of warriors, had fallen to the point of being taken advantage of in a foreign land by a naive little girl.

How pathetic.

Five years ago, Tanova had raised an army in protest against Sovaine’s oppression. They fought and they lost. Along with surrendering territory and paying reparations, they were compelled to send him, the heir to Tanova’s throne, as a political hostage.

From the moment he stepped into Sovaine’s borders, he had prepared himself to endure every humiliation and torment.

But to his surprise, the king of Sovaine showed no interest in him at all, casting him into the most secluded palace and leaving him there as if he had been completely forgotten.

Until now.

So, the humiliation had only come later.

A cold trace of irony flashed in Kaellian’s eyes.

He knew that this girl, Linaelina, was said to be the daughter of the king’s once most beloved consort. Her mother had died young, leaving her alone and vulnerable. The Empress, who had always harbored resentment toward her, now planned to marry her off to a neighboring king nearly eighty years old, sealing her fate.

This child was now willing to trade her chastity in a desperate attempt to escape her fate.

Naïve and pathetic.

Kaellian felt the drug begin to course through him, a tangled surge of desire and fury rising in its wake. He fought to suppress it, his eyes darkening with the effort.

This reckless little Princess actually thought that she could control the situation by ruining her own reputation.

And the person she chose… was him.

Foolish. And very detestable.

Kaellian lowered his gaze, silently watching the girl on top of him. Her movements were unsteady, her kisses unsure. There was no seduction in her touch, only a quiet, raw fear. And yet there was something in that innocence that stirred a dangerous hunger in him.

Like an innocent white rabbit straying into a wolf’s den, she had unknowingly stirred the beast’s deepest, most primitive hunger.

A dark tide rose within as Kaellian lifted his hand and rested it on her slender waist. The touch was gentle, yet it carried the weight of unseen chains, keeping her captive where she sat.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse, laced with a quiet threat.

Linaelina froze, the heat rushing to her cheeks like a flame. Her voice trembled as she stammered, “I… I want you…”

His Adam’s apple shifted subtly, and a dangerous light flickered in his eyes.
If this was truly her choice, then there would be no turning back.

There would be no room for hesitation, no place for regret.

Though she has taken the first step, the course it follows, and its conclusion now rest entirely in his hands.