Every beautiful woman summoned to Sephiroth’s chambers received the treatment of a queen.

By morning, she was dead.

In his kingdom, beauty was a curse.

Sephiroth was a ruler whose breathtaking beauty was surpassed only by his cruelty, his insatiable lust, and his obsession with possessing beautiful women—not merely their bodies, but their very souls.

Any young woman who caught his eye was immediately taken to his castle.

There, servants would bathe her, perfume her skin, dress her in the finest silk, and adorn her with precious jewels. Every detail was perfected until she resembled an offering worthy of their immortal king.

And when the chamber doors closed behind her, they would never open for her again.

Mothers concealed their daughters behind locked doors. Fathers prayed their families would escape the king’s attention. Young women learned to fear their own reflections, for beauty could condemn them to a fate worse than death.

Yet Sephiroth remained impossibly beautiful.

His silver hair never dulled. His flawless features never aged. Centuries passed, kingdoms crumbled, and generations vanished, but time itself seemed powerless against him.

Whispers spread throughout the realm.

Some claimed he was immortal. Others believed he practiced forbidden sorcery.

But the darkest rumor was far more terrifying.

They said Sephiroth preserved his eternal beauty by consuming the souls of the women he killed.

And whenever boredom crept into his endless existence, another unfortunate beauty would be summoned.

For a night of royal attention was nothing less than a death sentence.

⸻

But what happens when the woman condemned to his chambers is the one woman he would never have chosen?

Not young.

Not beautiful.

Not someone who could awaken even the faintest trace of his desire.

Just a thirty-five-year-old spinster, plain and overlooked, who had committed the unforgivable mistake of standing between his soldiers and the beautiful young girl they had come to claim.

Her punishment?

A night in the tyrant’s chambers.

Not as a lover.

Not as a cherished guest.

But as entertainment for a cruel, immortal king who found her utterly undesirable.

She must find a way to entertain a monster who has grown bored of everything—or die trying.

And Sephiroth has never been a merciful audience.