The Offer to Be Queen

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Gunshots rang out incessantly at Kawai Port, mixed with the cries of children and shouts of adults. Everything was in devastating chaos. This place, once the bustling hub of Kaeloria, was now a mess due to internal power struggles and the assassination of the king. The military patrolled the streets, trying to root out the so-called "terrorists". Meanwhile, a luxurious cruise ship was making a beeline for the open sea at full throttle. "Where's His Highness?" Irene Walker asked. "His Highness has successfully boarded," the maid replied, carefully tending to Irene's wounds and giving her a meaningful look. "But I'd advise you to keep to your room until you clear your name of the king's murder. Don't go chasing after the prince." "He'll believe me!" Irene retorted, a rare bite in her voice. "And what good will that do?" the maid sighed. "The king was murdered with only you beside him. His Highness' uncle insists that you're the murderer... Do you really think His Highness will take your word for it?" Irene shook her head, her eyes clear and resolute. "He will believe me." After all, Irene had risked her neck for the prince more times than she could count. These scars were her badges of honor and loyalty. Just then, a knock on the door interrupted them. A royal guard announced, "Irene, His Highness wishes to see you." Irene got dressed and said to the maid, "Thanks for the heads-up, though." Lewis Stinson, the crown prince of Kaeloria, now sat at the center of the cruise ship's council room. He was a towering man, standing 6'7" tall, with handsome features but a cold, authoritarian presence that kept most at arm's length. Yes, he was an authoritarian. Kaeloria remained the only absolute monarchy in today's world, with the king holding supreme power and both the military and the cabinet at his beck and call. The country's industry and commerce were highly advanced, making it a force to be reckoned with. Even a temporary stop like this cruise ship boasted a council room that was nothing short of opulent. "Your Highness, Irene reporting as ordered," she said, snapping to attention and saluting. Lewis, standing by the window, turned around after a long silence. As he saw Irene starting to panic, he finally spoke, "Irene, uh, after consulting with the military, we've decided..." After a pause, he added, "To execute you." Irene was stunned as she heard this shocking news. 'Is His Highness really going to have me executed?' "But Your Highness, you know I wouldn't do that!" she protested. "But the state needs a scapegoat right now," Lewis said, his blue eyes deep like abysses, making his emotions unreadable. Irene suddenly felt a chill all over her body when she heard his reply. She had been an orphan, making a living by scavenging dumpsters, sleeping on the streets, and fighting off thugs. When she was twelve, Lewis saw her fighting a stray dog for food and saw potential in her. He had her enrolled at Westpoint Military Academy against the odds. After graduation, she was handpicked as Prince Lewis' bodyguard. For three years, she had been through hell and back for him. As a soldier, she was no stranger to honor and bravery, but she never thought she'd end up as a mere "scapegoat" to silence the chatter. "Your Highness, don't you trust me?" Irene asked, holding back her pain. "You know, of all the people who evacuated tonight, apart from Tyler, you're the only one not from the Stinson family." Lewis' voice was icy, as if the person he was about to execute wasn't the woman who had fought and bled for him but just another expendable ant. Irene let out a bitter laugh. After a long pause, she said, "Fine." 'So three years of loyalty and devotion amount to nothing in the face of suspicion,' Irene thought. She raised her slender arms to let down her tied-up hair and remove her uniform, revealing the vivid scars across her body—scars earned while protecting Lewis. "If as a citizen, you deem me guilty..." She gave a sorrowful smile and continued. "I'd like to make one last request, in a different capacity." "What capacity?" Lewis asked. "As your woman, I want to make a request before I die," she said. If this was her fated end, she might as well have one last hurrah. "What is it?" Lewis asked. "I wanna have one last c****x," she replied while leaning in to kiss him. At first, Lewis didn't move but just let her kiss him. Gradually, he began to respond, "If that's your wish, then I grant it." Irene had to admit, from the first moment she laid eyes on Lewis, his towering figure and haughty air had her hooked. To her surprise, facing her demise, she still craved the warmth of his body. "Take off your clothes," Lewis commanded, his eyes as perilous as a murky swamp. "Yes, my lord," Irene responded without hesitation. Soon, she stood naked before him. Lewis surveyed Irene's curvy figure; her flawless skin contrasted sharply against perky breasts and her well-toned muscles—a testament to her grueling profession. Her body was both sexy and battle-scarred, with fresh blood tracing down from a bullet wound she took for him. He pressed her against the wall, her bare form melding seamlessly into his. His knee wedged between her legs and lifted her effortlessly. Lewis' emotions were a tangled mess. He didn't want to kill Irene, yet she was the only suspect. The political landscape was too fraught now. Even as he stood on the brink of kingship, with many forces looming in the shadows, he didn't have a say in some matters. He had to placate the people and the military. With a sudden heave, Lewis lifted Irene and tossed her onto the bed like a crazed beast. His teeth sank into her shoulder, leaving a row of deep, crimson marks. Irene clenched her fists, a mix of pleasure and pain swirling as the raw intensity of the moment consumed them. This wasn't perfect lovemaking, yet it was rather fierce. Lewis couldn't bear to lose Irene, yet he had to do the deed. This conflict drove him mad, entangling him with Irene all through the night. As dawn barely broke, Irene staggered to her feet. "I'll look after your family," Lewis stated in a cold tone with a pistol in hand. "I don't have a family," Irene replied, wiping a tear from her eye. "Just take care of my cat... and yourself." Lewis' lips crashed onto hers, sealing her words with a kiss that tasted of blood, tender yet aggressive. The next moment, a loud shot echoed in the air. As the bullet pierced her left breast, Irene felt the kiss deepen, so she bit down her pain and remained silent. "Dump her in the ocean," Lewis ordered, his hands trembling slightly, his heart anything but calm. "Yes, Your Highness."