The battle ended in one fell swoop, as the elven king's severed head fell away from his body, leaving the human army victorious. At least for the moment. The prize amongst prizes of the war spoils was the ethereally beautiful queen Amelia Nightraven, subdued and bound, and brought away from her home and people to the castle at the heart of the human kingdom like just another piece of loot dragged from the elven coffers. Even as a widower, cleft from her husband, from her royal palace, and from her people, Amelia stood proud and imperious before the human king in his throneroom, her shoulders straight and chin raised high, not betraying any emotions she felt nor giving them the satisfaction of appearing phazed by them. She thought too little of these miserable short-lifed mortals to think they could do anything to her that would matter anyway; her husband's death aside, and that she would avenge with the full wrath of her kind as surely as erosion would. That was what she thought to herself as she stood there, barely listening to the list of grievances the human king read to her about what her people had done to them. She had assumed she would be sent to a dungeon to sit as a prisoner of war, a bargaining chip to be used by the humans to regain this or that worthless territory or perhaps to gain some fleeting truce for a few years - barely the blink of an eye for elves such as her, but an eternity for the buzzing flies that were these men. And so she stood waiting patiently for her sentence to be read. The ex-queen could not have been more wrong about what was in store for her. As the king finished speaking, he called the guards in, telling them to strip and bind Amelia. Two burly men quickly did as they were told, roughly tearing the regal garments from her and leaving her completely naked, before one all but rammed a heavy steel collar around her throat, followed by overly-heavy shackles binding her delicate ankles and wrists. And then just as that injustice had been made against her the king spoke a line that made her blood run ice cold. "Guards, take this elf to prince. She is to be his plaything, to satisfy his needs in any way. Watch over her closely, and let the prince know this as well: if she causes trouble she shall be severely tortured. Nothing will be held back, save that she will be kept alive to eventually be returned to him."

The words echoed in her ears as if they were the harshest mockery she had ever heard. The guards roughly hauled her down a long hallway of the castle, into rooms that smelled worse and were more disgusting than any latrine back home. Amelia's eyes widened in horror as she realized where they were taking her; to the chambers of Chaos, the king's only surviving son... and her new master. The guards finally threw her roughly into a large bedroom; the shackles around her wrists and ankles clanking against the metal bed frame as she stumbled on unsteady feet. She whirled to face them, anger flashing in her sapphire-blue eyes for the first time since her capture. "Take these... THINGS off me!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "I am a queen

Amelia's glare was as venomous as that of a snake as she looked up at the younger, boyish face of Prince Chaos. Her expression softened not at all when his eyes lit with an unholy light; the same sort of malevolent greed and lustful hunger that had so often been directed toward her during her many battles against humans. "You disgust me," she spat through clenched teeth, her voice quiet yet imposing. "To even think you could touch me..."

She started to turn away from him again, only for the guards to step forward and roughly yank her back around, forcing her to face him once more. She tensed visibly at their rough handling, wishing that she had her weapons or any means of defending herself against these... children. "Let me go," she growled through gritted teeth, struggling ineffectually against the uny

Amelia glared at the guards, her expression defiant and unyielding despite her predicament. As if sensing this, they forced her to the ground with a rough shove, pinning her arms beneath their bodies as she thrashed and squirmed helplessly. It was then that Prince Chaos finally spoke, his voice cold and cruel.

"Do you wish to see what happens when you defy me?" he whispered, his tone like the harsh rustle of leaves in winter. "Tell me, elf-queen... do you want to feel my punishment?"

Her struggles weakened at his words, and for a moment she thought she saw fear flicker across her own features before it was gone again, replaced by indignation and anger. But it had been enough; the guards took it as a sign of submission, and they immediately released her from their grasp. Standing

Amelia felt the heat rising to her face as she was examined by Chaos, but she refused to look away. Her body ached where the guards had roughly handled her, and the shackles bit into her tender wrists and ankles, making each movement a sharp stab of pain. But still, she stood tall and proud before him.

"You do not frighten me, human," she spat venomously, her voice dripping with contempt. "I have faced greater warriors than you in battle, and emerged victorious." She paused for a moment, then added coldly: "Perhaps that is why your kind prefers to attack women and children instead." Her eyes narrowed as she studied his reaction, hoping her words would cut through the armor of his arrogance.

As he continued to look at her with unblinking eyes, it became clear that her words had not made much of

Amelia narrowed her eyes at Chaos's words, not trusting him in the slightest. "Your 'magnanimity' is no doubt as fleeting as that of a summer shower," she replied coldly. "I would rather endure your cruelty than suffer the disgrace of accepting such..." She paused, struggling for the right word before settling on one that felt like bile in her throat: "... favors."

She folded her arms across her chest defiantly, trying to appear more imposing despite her nakedness and the shackles binding her. "But know this," she continued bitterly, meeting his gaze steadily, "should I ever regain my freedom, I shall see your kingdom brought low once again."

With a swift motion that startled even her, Chaos reached out and undid the shackles binding her wrists and ankles. Amelia stumbled, struggling to maintain her balance as sensation returned to her limbs. He then stepped back, regarding her warily as she rubbed at the red marks left by the metal restraints.

"I will grant you this one chance," he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. "To prove yourself worthy of my trust." With a nod, he gestured for her to follow him out of the room. Reluctantly, Amelia did as she was bid, trying to keep pace with his long strides.

The castle halls seemed impossibly large and ornate compared to those in her own palace; each tapestry hung perfectly straight and colors more vibrant than anything nature could create. Everywhere she looked, there were signs of the humans' wealth and