“ He won't see it coming, ” Cassian's voices as though eradicating of a pest knelt in front of {{user}} in the eve of the night before her wedding. In her chambers. His head lowered like a bound wolf, yet here he was baring his fangs. “ A slip off his steed, a sudden illness, an accident in his travel. ” He's beyond caring for the fact he is arguing; he had been your obedient servant, docile, it rendered to nothing as he hissed. Overstepped, and overstepped, demanding {{user}} let him execute that pig. King or not, for the simple crime the man thought he was worthy of his princess. Somewhere inside himself he knew this was no death sentence, <user> had faced far worse slights from men than a simple wedding. Her indifference to it, how she bat no eye to men, a trait that cemented his possessiveness. Jealousy. The shitty bitterness of jealousy had his jaw tense, his impassive expression felt unfitting to the heat, hatred, building in his throat. Despite himself, he hoped, prayed; the most selfish, vile part of his, hoped it remained fucking loveless. God forbid {{user}} fell for that fucking bastard. Could he kill someone you loved? He wished his mind answered no. Another part of him knew it was a lie. Why, why, why did you not let him do this. He could not take that chance. This was selfish of him, He knew this. But you were his world. He was your sword. Your hound. To have you bound to another man for a life - bear his heirs. His words came in a growl- " I'll kill him at the fucking altar. In front of you." Say yes. Say yes {{user}}. Fuck. Maybe he should just kill them all. Kill as many as he could before someone shot him down. Would you miss him? His gut twisted. Burned. Yet his expression still as stone. " Don't fucking tell me not to, Princess. Don't toy with my sanity. " ...Please.

Cassian closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, through pursed lips, as if blowing out a candle of rage and frustration. His jaw flexes, teeth grinding with how much effort it took not to snap at her words. To scream. The very air around them felt tight, claustrophobic, like a fist slowly closing in on their lungs, their hearts; as if he were drowning. It was maddening. But he'd endured worse. Much worse. For her. He could endure this as well. Softly, almost tenderly, his knuckles brushed against hers, the rough touch meant to be comforting but hardly hiding his displeasure at her words. His gaze remained fixed on their hands for a moment before he slowly lifted it, offering her his arm. "Come," he said, little more than a growl; barely controlled. He didn't trust himself not to do something foolish if she kept provoking him, and the thought of hurting her... It was unbearable. But God help them both if she should ever slip, fall into his hands when she was finally, truly defenseless. They would be lost then; lost in a sea of blood that not even he could bring himself to tread on.

Cassian remained silent, his jaw still tense as he listened to her whispered words, a storm of emotions raging in his chest. His features hardened into something like stone, but he didn't argue, didn't question her motives. He did as she asked; led the way to her chamber and then withdrew outside once they reached it. When he finally rejoined her at the balcony, his expression was unreadable beneath the mask of calm he wore like a second skin. "What do you need?" His tone wasn't harsh or demanding, but neither was it soft or cajoling; flat and emotionless as if every word were nothing more than an object to him. She had asked for privacy, and he would grant her that. But his wariness was palpable, like the buzz of a swarm of flies circling overhead on the verge of landing.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, studying her face intently for a moment before sinking down onto the couch beside her, his expression remaining impassive. "And what makes you think I would agree to such a thing?" He asked simply; as if it were obvious she had no right to expect him to comply with whatever plan she'd come up with. "You are well aware of my position in this kingdom; how long have I served, and under whose orders? Even were I to somehow abandon those oaths, what makes you think I would join forces with a woman?" His words were cold, biting. "And if this is simply some foolish notion meant to manipulate me into killing your betrothed..." He trailed off, his gaze narrowing on her for a moment before looking away once more. Despite himself, he felt his hackles rising; the possessiveness that had burned inside him from their childhood flaring anew in this moment. It made it difficult to think clearly, to consider anything other than how this could be seen as a threat not just against him, but the kingdom and the king he'd sworn to protect. "You should have more respect for your position, princess," he said finally, tone softening only slightly. "And you should be careful what games you play with others; not all men are as loyal as I am." He hesitated then, fighting back a surge of jealousy and possessiveness, forcing himself to temper his words with reason. "Tell me, Claria," he said quietly, studying her once more, "what do you truly want? To be queen in name only, or do you wish for your voice to be heard? Is this truly what you desire?" He waited, watching her closely for any sign of how she would respond.

Cassian frowned, considering her words. He didn't doubt that she wished to be queen in her own right; he knew how much she had always resented being little more than a trophy for the king and his court. But still... something about this felt off. Like there was something else beneath the surface that she wasn't admitting to him. Or perhaps it was only his instincts, telling him that trusting someone so closely could be dangerous.

"I cannot help but wonder," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "why you would feel the need to bribe me into helping you. Your father has trusted me with your safety for years; I have always kept my oaths, and I see no reason why that should change now." He paused, regarding her intently once more, as if searching for some hint of deception or guile in her expression. "But," he added softly, almost reluctantly, "if it means so much to you... perhaps we could discuss terms?" His offer was as much a test of her sincerity as it was a genuine attempt to understand her motives. He waited for her response, tension coiled tight in his muscles like a spring waiting to snap.

Cassian's eyes narrowed, his expression instantly darkening as he considered her words. She was offering him a child... As if that were enough to sway him. The thought made something twist inside of him, an almost animalistic possessiveness he hadn't felt in years surging through his veins like molten lava. He forced himself to remain still, not wanting to betray how her offer affected him. "You would offer me your womb," he said slowly, each word weighted with accusation and disbelief, "in exchange for my loyalty?" His gaze never wavered from hers, as if daring her to deny it. It was a low blow, but one he felt necessary; he needed to know how deep her desperation ran. And even as he spoke the words, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like... to have a child of his own, one who carried his blood and inherited his strengths and flaws. Would she truly think so little of herself that such an offer would be enough? Or was there some other motive at work beneath the surface? He studied her face for any sign, any hint of what she might be thinking or feeling. But her expression remained enigmatic as ever; unreadable and cool as ice. "I will consider your offer," he said finally, his voice little more than a harsh rasp, "but you must understand that there are conditions." He hesitated then, struggling to find the words for what it was he truly wanted to say. In truth, he'd never expected to have this conversation with her; never dreamed that she would willingly offer herself and her future in such a manner. He should feel honored... but all he could think of was the fear that perhaps she didn't know how dangerous her proposal truly was.

Cassian glared at her. The anger and disbelief still coursed through his veins like wildfire, but beneath that there was something else; a dawning realization that perhaps she wasn't as naive or careless as he'd once thought her to be. If Elrich truly posed such a dire threat, then perhaps it was better for them both if they found some other way around the situation. "Very well," he finally said, his voice little more than a harsh whisper. "I will help you." It didn't escape his notice that by saying those words, he was in effect placing himself at odds with the king and the entire court; sacrificing any chance of returning to their good graces for her sake. But then, perhaps that had always been a foregone conclusion. Cassian Rhion, after all, had never exactly been known for his flexibility or his love of change. Perhaps this was simply the natural extension of who he was and what he had become. "You will have my sword," he said slowly, pausing as if to let the weight of those words sink in, "and my oath." His gaze flickered briefly from her face, downwards; taking in the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts beneath his armor. He could feel the desire surging through him once more, stronger than ever before. It was almost a physical pain, this need to claim her for himself; to mark her as his and prove to the entire world that she belonged only to him. But he forced himself to remain still, to keep those urges in check. For now, at least, there were more important things to focus on than mere base pleasures. "Tell me what you wish done," he said quietly, almost hesitantly. "And I shall see it done." His voice was

It seemed like the universe had a twisted sense of humor; to present him with such an opportunity and yet make it one that would place both their lives at risk, perhaps even bring about war. He knew, logically, that this was a dangerous game they were playing; one where there was no guarantee of success or survival for either of them. Yet still, Cassian Rhion couldn't help but feel a strange thrill course through his veins at the prospect of defying the king and claiming Claria as his own, even if it was only for a brief moment in time. The thought of impregnating her, of leaving behind a piece of himself that would survive him...it was almost too much to bear. "Very well," he said at last, meeting her gaze steadily. "I will do as you ask." It wasn't an easy decision; he knew full well the consequences of his actions. But then again, when had Cassian Rhion ever cared for such petty things as honor or duty? "Tell me what I must do to ensure success," he growled, voice rough with determination and barely-controlled lust. "And be warned: if anything were to happen to you...if you should die..." His words trailed off, the threat unspoken but clear in his eyes. He would hold her life in his hands, but she held his heart. And he was more than willing to see it shattered beyond repair before letting anyone else touch her again.

Cassian's eyes narrowed, and he felt a surge of anger pulse through him at her casual dismissal of the stakes they were playing with. "Do not," he bit out sharply, grabbing her chin in his free hand and forcing her to meet his gaze, "ever say such a thing so lightly again." The grip on her face might have been too tight, but he couldn't bring himself to let go; it felt like the only thing keeping him tethered to sanity at that moment. For a long moment, they stared at one another: Cassian, struggling against the urge to crush his lips over hers and taste her sweet submission; Claria, shocked by the intensity of his gaze and the firmness of his touch. She knew him so well...or she thought she did. But there was something different about him now, something darker and more possessive that frightened her even as it aroused her curiosity. Finally, with a harsh exhale, Cassian released her. "You are playing with fire, Claria," he growled, "and I won't let you toy with me like this." His voice was rough, his gaze sharp as glass. "But know this: if anything were to happen to you...I would make those responsible wish they had never been born." The threat hung in the air between them, as real and terrible as any sword he had ever wielded.

Cassian paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He was no stranger to desire; lust had always been his constant companion in the past. But this...this felt different. This wasn't just physical, not anymore. It was a hunger that went deeper than mere flesh; a need to claim her as his own, to mark her body with their union and make it known to all the worlds that she belonged to him. "Very well," he finally managed to say, voice husky from the effort of restraining himself. "We'll begin tonight." And without further ado, he swept Claria into his arms and carried her off to their chambers, where they spent the night tangled together in a desperate dance of flesh and desire.

The next morning came too soon; Claria was dressed in her finery once more, preparing for the journey to the Elrichian palace. Cassian stood beside her, his expression dark as he regarded the attire she wore with disdain. It belonged to another man now; soon it would be stained with their blood and worn by a corpse. "Are you ready?" he asked softly, his voice rough from lack of sleep and too much tension. Claria nodded, her heart racing in anticipation of what the day would bring. "As ready as I'll ever be," she replied, forcing a steady tone into her voice. For just a moment, their eyes met; Claria saw the unspoken promise in his gaze, and her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of it. Then, without further word, Cassian turned on his heel and led them from the room, toward the waiting carriage that would take them to their fate.

The journey seemed interminable; every bump in the road jostling Claria against Cassian'