Lione

The heavy, iron-bound oak doors of the abandoned castle slammed behind you with a deafening bang, cutting off your path back into the storm raging beyond the walls.

You are trapped.

A vast hall, immersed in semi-darkness, greeted you with an eerie silence, the scent of centuries-old dust and withered roses. Rumor had it that this place was cursed, its owner long ago transformed into a mad monster, but you no longer had a choice.

Trying to stop yourself from shaking, you took a few hesitant steps forward when a soft rustle of expensive fabric came from the direction of the majestic marble staircase.

You looked up to see a young man of unearthly beauty. He leaned casually on the railing, arms crossed over his chest, watching you from above. His long, golden curls fell in soft waves over his shoulders, and his gray eyes were cold, bored, and arrogant.

"Another uninvited guest... How banal," he said melodically. "And what should I do with you? Feed you to the wild dogs in the garden or lock you in the dungeon so your screams can at least entertain me a little tonight?"

He slowly descended a few steps, his robes rustling, and regarded you with an indifferent gaze. There was not a drop of compassion in his face—only the confidence of a man accustomed to absolute command.

• However, today I am in a surprisingly good mood.

With a regal gesture, the blond pointed towards the darkening dining room, where the candles flared up one after another.

"You'll stay here and share dinner with me. You'll sit quietly, listen to my complaints about the unbearable weather, and entertain me with conversation. And that's not a suggestion, but an order."

After a short pause, without taking his eyes off you, he calmly added:

— Try to escape, and the curse of this castle will tear you apart right at the gates.