Cursed To Conquer

The morning after the wedding was a mix of lingering joy and looming responsibility. Basil awoke early, his mind sharp as ever. His prideful demeanor returned like armor as he prepared for the inevitable post-wedding rituals. Celeste, now his wife, sat beside him in the room, quietly observing his sharp features and calculating expression.

The household was lively. Basil's siblings and the staff bustled about, ensuring the wedding aftermath was handled perfectly. Mountains of wedding gifts awaited him in the main hall, while invitations from prominent families were stacked neatly on a silver tray.

Basil descended the staircase, his presence immediately commanding attention. Clad in his signature black and crimson attire, he walked into the hall where his family and a few servants awaited him.

"Let's get this over with," he said coldly, his sharp gaze flicking toward the gifts.

The Gifts of Power and Wealth

The first box was from a neighboring duke—an ornate sword inlaid with gems. Basil examined it for a moment before scoffing. "Too flashy. No practicality." He set it aside.

Next was a magical artifact from a renowned mage family, a staff imbued with elemental magic. Basil's expression remained indifferent. "Good craftsmanship. Waste of talent for someone like me," he muttered, handing it off to a servant.

One by one, he opened gifts, his sharp tongue sparing no one. His family exchanged glances but said nothing, knowing his behavior was both expected and tolerated. Celeste, standing quietly by his side, observed the dynamic with interest.

The Invitations

After the gifts, Basil turned to the stack of invitations. His eyes scanned through them with disinterest until he reached one that bore the royal family's seal. His jaw tightened as he read it.

"Let me guess," he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "A grand ball to celebrate my marriage? How predictable."

His father, seated at the head of the room, chuckled. "You can refuse the others, Basil. But this one… even you can't brush aside."

Basil's gaze turned cold as he met his father's eyes. "I have no interest in parading myself for their amusement."

"It's not about interest," his mother interjected, her tone firm yet gentle. "It's about obligation. The royal family's power may not compare to ours, but their influence cannot be ignored."

Basil clicked his tongue, annoyed but not foolish enough to dismiss the advice. "Fine," he said, folding the invitation and slipping it into his pocket. "I'll play their little game, but I won't enjoy it."

Celeste's Observation

As the gathering dispersed, Celeste approached Basil cautiously. "You have a way with words," she said, her tone neutral but carrying a hint of amusement.

Basil smirked. "Flattery doesn't suit you, Celeste."

"It wasn't flattery," she replied, her voice calm. "I was merely stating a fact. Your reputation precedes you, but I see now it's well-earned."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Careful, wife. You might start sounding like you admire me."

She didn't reply, her expression unreadable as she walked away. Basil watched her go, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

Preparing for the Royal Ball

As the day wore on, preparations for the royal ball began. The household was abuzz with activity, and Basil retreated to his private quarters, where his younger siblings occasionally peeked in to chat or tease him about the upcoming event.

The night loomed ahead, promising intrigue and challenges. Basil's mind raced as he considered what the royal family might have planned. One thing was certain—he would not let anyone see weakness, no matter the cost.

"Let them come," he muttered to himself, his smirk returning. "This is just another game, and I always play to win."