[Osric’s POV—Imperial Audience Room]
I sat rigidly in the grand eting hall, my palms sweating against the cold marble table. The Emperor—my future father-in-law (if I survived the next five minutes)—sat across from like a carved statue of divine wrath.
Ravick and Theon stood on either side of him like silent executioners. No one spoke. Not a sound except the relentless ticking of the ornate clock on the wall.
His majesty’s crimson eyes locked onto with such intensity that I briefly wondered if he could set people on fire by sheer will.
"I will accept you," His Majesty finally said, voice calm but sohow scarier for it, "as my forced son-in-law."
My heart leapt—then imdiately crashed back into my stomach.
"But..." he continued, each syllable slicing through my fragile hope, "you must pass my trials. Spare with and survive them, and the day you win against , you will earn the right to call yourself her fiancé."
Ah yes. Trials. Because love apparently wasn’t hard enough.
I tried to smile. It ca out more like a nervous twitch. "Th-that’s... very generous of you, Your Majesty—"
"Theon," His majesty interrupted, voice low and commanding.
Theon stepped forward, lips twitching with amusent, and placed a thick scroll on the table. It landed with a THUD that echoed through my bones.
I blinked. "...What is this, Your Majesty?"
His majesty’s lips curled into sothing between a smirk and a death sentence. "A marriage contract."
My stomach dropped. "A... marriage... contract?"
"Yes," he said, voice dripping with tyrannical pride. "For you and my daughter. Drafted personally by ."
I stared at the scroll.
Then I unrolled it.
And it just... kept unrolling. Across the table. Down to the floor. And then continued—like a cursed parchnt with no end.
By the ti it stopped, Theon was biting his cheek to stop from laughing, and Ravick looked like he was ntally praying for my soul.
I cleared my throat. "Ah... that’s... quite comprehensive, Your Majesty."
"Read," His majesty commanded, leaning back like a judge watching an execution. I gulped and started reading.
Clause One:The groom shall never allow Princess Lavinia to experience a single mont of sadness, inconvenience, or boredom. Should he fail, punishnt shall be death... and a personal one-on-one talk with the Princess’s father.
I froze. "A... a talk with—?"
His majesty’s eyes glinted like polished blades. "Yes. A talk."
I swallowed hard and mumbled. "Right. Death sounds... quicker."
Clause Two:The groom shall never touch, look at, or breathe near another woman within a thirty-foot radius. Violation of this clause results in imdiate and spectacular death.
My head snapped up. "Your Majesty—"
"Silence," His majesty said coolly, voice calm enough to make my spine sweat. "Keep reading."
Clause Three:The groom must report daily to the Emperor with a written summary of how happy the Princess is. If her happiness level falls below 99%, punishnt will involve a private dinner with .
I blinked. "...That doesn’t sound too bad."
His majesty’s lips curved into a terrifyingly calm smile. "You’ll be the main course."
My pen trembled in my hand. "Ah. I see. Suddenly I’m feeling very inspired to write upbeat reports."
Clause Seven:The groom must survive at least sixty years—no exceptions. Failure to comply will be considered high treason.
"...Sixty years?" I croaked. "That’s... oddly specific."
His majesty leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, eyes glowing like molten red. "You will live long enough for to have grandchildren who call Grandpa. Do I make myself clear?"
I straightened imdiately. "C-crystal clear, Your Majesty."
Clause Eight:The groom shall never, under any circumstance, attempt to win an argunt against the Princess.
This clause is legally reinforced by Ravick and Theon’s signatures.
Ravick sighed heavily. "It’s true."
Theon crossed his arms proudly. "It’s our finest legal creation yet."
I continued reading, each line draining another ounce of my will to live.
Clause Nine:The groom shall never raise his voice, hand, or eyebrow at the Princess.
Clause Ten:The groom must provide snacks to the Princess during emotional turmoil, existential crisis, or boredom.
Clause Eleven:If the Princess says she wants the moon, the groom must figure out how to deliver it.
Clause Twelve:The groom shall not allow the Princess to lift anything heavier than a flower. If she attempts to, he must stop her imdiately and lift it himself.
By the end of it, my hands were shaking and the parchnt looked like a horror novel disguised as marriage law.
Absurd? Yes. Tyrannical? Absolutely. And yet... sohow, my heart felt strangely light.
Because despite the madness, the overprotectiveness, and the sheer psychological warfare written in ink... His majesty hadn’t yelled. He hadn’t drawn his sword. He hadn’t said Lavinia would marry soone else.
Sowhere under that terrifying exterior... he had accepted . Just a little. And I guess...that’s enough for as Cassius devereux son-in-law.
I smiled faintly, clutching the quill. "I shall sign it, Your Majesty."
His majesty gaze was sharp enough to cut through granite. "And seal it with your stamp."
I laughed weakly. "Ah, yes, of course. Wouldn’t dream of skipping that."
Theon murmured, "Brave man."
And as I pressed my seal to the cursed docunt, I couldn’t help but think—This wasn’t a marriage contract. This was a lifeti survival challenge.
***
[Later—Outside the Audience Chamber]
The heavy doors closed behind with a dull thud, sealing in the suffocating air of the audience chamber. I let out a long, shaky exhale and loosened my collar. I survived.
Barely.
But before I could even take another step, a familiar voice gasped—
"Osric!"
Lavinia was pacing near the corridor’s marble columns, her teeth tugging at her lower lip, hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. The mont our eyes t, she rushed toward , eyes wide and glimring with worry.
"Osric... thank the stars, you’re still alive!"
I blinked. "You... were expecting not to be?"
"Well, Papa had that look," she said, clutching my hands tightly. "You know, the one that makes grown n faint? Did he hurt you sowhere? Did he threaten to cut off sothing important? You’re whole, right?"
Her concern, paired with that adorable furrow between her brows, almost made laugh. "Everything went well, Lavi. Don’t worry. His Majesty has... agreed."
Her eyes sparkled instantly. "He did?! Really?!"
I nodded, still dazed from the miracle. "Yes. It’s official."
Before I could even blink, she practically leaped toward in delight. "That’s amazing! We can now Romance openly," she said, arms ready to wrap around my neck—
"TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER THIS INSTANT!!!"
The voice struck like thunder.
We both froze mid-motion as Emperor Cassius stord down the corridor, his crimson cape sweeping behind him like a shadow of doom. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, eyes blazing with divine fury.
He ca to stand between us, his towering form blocking Lavinia completely from view.
"Y-your Majesty!" I stamred, stepping back so fast I nearly tripped.
His majesty crossed his arms, the faint sound of his sword clinking echoing like a warning bell. "You are not yet engaged, and this is a public hallway! I will not have you—" he pointed a sharp finger at "—touching my daughter under the sa roof as !"
Lavinia puffed her cheeks, muttering, "Papa! We weren’t even—"
"Silence, Lavinia," Cassius said sternly without even glancing her way. "You are my daughter before you are his anything."
I bowed deeply, sweating bullets. "Haha... y-your Majesty, we were rely—uh—expressing gratitude? You know... happiness? In a purely non-contact way?"
Theon, standing nearby, whispered under his breath to Ravick, "That didn’t sound convincing at all."
Ravick replied quietly, "He’s lucky His Majesty hasn’t drawn the sword yet."
His majesty’s eyes narrowed at , and the faintest muscle in his jaw twitched. "I will be watching you, Osric. Every. Step."
I nodded rapidly. "Yes, Your Majesty. Understood, Your Majesty. I will keep my hands respectfully to myself—maybe even tie them behind my back for safety, Your Majesty."
Lavinia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Papa, you’re ridiculous!"
He shot her a look so sharp that even Theon straightened. "Ridiculousness is the price of fatherhood. You will understand when your daughter tries hugging a man in a hallway."
Lavinia blushed crimson. "Papa!"
anwhile, I tried not to smile—but failed miserably. Watching the two of them argue, seeing His Majesty’s overprotective glare clash with Lavinia’s fiery spirit... it almost felt like ho.
His majesty turned to once more, eyes narrowing to slits. "And wipe that smile off your face, boy."
"Right," I said imdiately, forcing a grim expression. "Deeply serious. No joy here."
Theon coughed to hide his laugh. Ravick muttered, "He’s dood."
Lavinia, however, smiled brightly—utterly unbothered by her father’s theatrics—and stomped away down the corridor, her steps light with happiness. His Majesty followed close behind, posture rigid, gaze sharp, hovering like a hawk guarding his most precious treasure.
Which, to be fair... she was.
I watched them go, my lips curving into a helpless smile.
Well, that’s how I finally succeeded in becoming Emperor Cassius Devereux’s son-in-law.
I took a deep breath, glancing toward the heavens as if asking for divine patience.
The journey is still long... but I think...I can survive this family.
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