The Fallen Kingdom: King's Missing Daughters Sold Out By Blood, The Monster Billionaire.

Chapter 001~ The golden sun spread its warm rays across the peaceful land of Zangoria, a kingdom blessed with rolling hills, thick forests, and rivers that sang lullabies to the wind. Birds danced through the clear skies. Farmers whistled as they tilled the earth. Merchants opened their stalls with joyful hearts. And children ran barefoot, their laughter echoing in the distance. At the heart of it all stood the majestic Emerald Palace, a sprawling estate of gold-roofed towers and crystal-clear fountains. It was here that King Cyrus, ruler of Zangoria, lived with his queen, Rebecca, and their two beautiful daughters, Sofia, the strong-willed firstborn, and Priscilla, the soft-spoken last child with eyes that held the stars. King Cyrus was not just a ruler. He was a father to the land, a shepherd to his people. Known for his fairness and kindness, he ruled Zangoria with a just hand and a heart full of compassion. He listened to his people. He walked among them. He remembered names, grieved with the grieving, celebrated with the joyful, and judged with wisdom drawn from the ancient scrolls of their forefathers. His wife, Queen Rebecca, was loved no less. Graceful and intelligent, she was the whisper of reason behind the king’s voice. While Cyrus guarded the land, Rebecca guarded the hearts. Her love for her people was evident in the way she organized women groups, gave charity to the poor, and visited every village twice a year, never failing. Together, they were the light of Zangoria. The people said that as long as King Cyrus and Queen Rebecca sat on the throne, evil would never find a place to settle. Their daughters were raised in love and tradition. Princess Sofia, at nineteen, was already training to become a warrior queen like her mother. She sparred with the soldiers, studied the histories of wars and peace treaties, and questioned everything with a keen eye. She had her father’s commanding spirit and her mother’s sharp tongue. Priscilla, barely fifteen, was the opposite. Gentle as dawn, she spent most of her time with scrolls and books. While Sofia learned to wield a sword, Priscilla learned to wield wisdom. Her talent for storytelling, painting, and poetry earned her admiration across the land. People often said her words could heal a broken heart or inspire a coward to courage. The palace flourished. The people adored them. The nobles admired them. Even the skies seemed to smile upon Zangoria. But far beyond the painted walls and peaceful gardens, a dark shadow stirred, a shadow that wore the face of Judah, the king’s own brother. Judah was Cyrus blood, born only two years apart. But where Cyrus was kind, Judah was cruel. Where the king was content, Judah was jealous. Despite all the king had done for him, giving him lands, riches, a title, and a seat among the royal council, Judah always wanted more. He wanted everything. He believed it was unfair that Cyrus was king. That he, Judah, the smarter one in his own eyes, the more daring, the more cunning, should have been chosen instead. While Cyrus earned his people's love, Judah only earned their fear. Whispers often followed him in the hallways. Servants refused to meet his eyes. Even his own guards tiptoed around his rages. The only person who saw through him, who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, was Queen Rebecca. She warned Cyrus more than once: > “Your brother carries darkness in his heart, my love. Be careful. He is not content to be second.” But King Cyrus always shook his head. > “He is my brother. He may be flawed, but he is family. He would never betray me.” Yet even as the king said those words, Judah’s heart beat like a war drum with wicked plans. Each day, he stood on the palace balcony staring at the throne, not with admiration, but with desire. And the daughters. Oh, how he hated their smiles. He envied the way the people loved them. In his twisted mind, the girls were not just the king’s daughters, they were obstacles. Threats. Proof that the future of the throne did not include him. So, while the kingdom celebrated harvests and danced under the stars, Judah began to plot. He began to watch. To scheme. And to prepare for betrayal that would shake Zangoria to its roots. But on this day, in this chapter, the light still reigned. Birds still sang. The palace was still a home. And King Cyrus sat on his throne, watching his daughters laugh in the garden, unaware that the hands of blood would soon tear their world apart.