Chapter 271: Terms and Conditions of Loving a Princess
[Osric’s POV—Imperial Audience Room]
I sat rigidly in the grand meeting hall, my palms sweating against the cold marble table. The Emperor—my future father-in-law (if I survived the next five minutes)—sat across from me like a carved statue of divine wrath.
Ravick and Theon stood on either side of him like silent executioners. No one spoke. Not a sound except the relentless ticking of the ornate clock on the wall.
His majesty’s crimson eyes locked onto me with such intensity that I briefly wondered if he could set people on fire by sheer will.
"I will accept you," His Majesty finally said, voice calm but somehow scarier for it, "as my forced son-in-law."
My heart leapt—then immediately crashed back into my stomach.
"But..." he continued, each syllable slicing through my fragile hope, "you must pass my trials. Spare with me and survive them, and the day you win against me, you will earn the right to call yourself her fiancé."
Ah yes. Trials. Because love apparently wasn’t hard enough.
I tried to smile. It came out more like a nervous twitch. "Th-that’s... very generous of you, Your Majesty—"
"Theon," His majesty interrupted, voice low and commanding.
Theon stepped forward, lips twitching with amusement, and placed a thick scroll on the table. It landed with a THUD that echoed through my bones.
I blinked. "...What is this, Your Majesty?"
His majesty’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a death sentence. "A marriage contract."
My stomach dropped. "A... marriage... contract?"
"Yes," he said, voice dripping with tyrannical pride. "For you and my daughter. Drafted personally by me."
I stared at the scroll.
Then I unrolled it.
And it just... kept unrolling. Across the table. Down to the floor. And then continued—like a cursed parchment with no end.
By the time it stopped, Theon was biting his cheek to stop from laughing, and Ravick looked like he was mentally praying for my soul.
I cleared my throat. "Ah... that’s... quite comprehensive, Your Majesty."
"Read," His majesty commanded, leaning back like a judge watching an execution. I gulped and started reading.
Clause One:The groom shall never allow Princess Lavinia to experience a single moment of sadness, inconvenience, or boredom. Should he fail, punishment shall be death... and a personal one-on-one talk with the Princess’s father.
I froze. "A... a talk with—?"
His majesty’s eyes glinted like polished blades. "Yes. A talk.
"I swallowed hard and mumbled. "Right. Death sounds... quicker."
Clause Two:The groom shall never touch, look at, or breathe near another woman within a thirty-foot radius. Violation of this clause results in immediate and spectacular death.
My head snapped up. "Your Majesty—"
"Silence," His majesty said coolly, voice calm enough to make my spine sweat. "Keep reading."
Clause Three:The groom must report daily to the Emperor with a written summary of how happy the Princess is. If her happiness level falls below 99%, punishment will involve a private dinner with me.
I blinked. "...That doesn’t sound too bad."
His majesty’s lips curved into a terrifyingly calm smile. "You’ll be the main course."
My pen trembled in my hand. "Ah. I see. Suddenly I’m feeling very inspired to write upbeat reports."
Clause Seven:The groom must survive at least sixty years—no exceptions. Failure to comply will be considered high treason.
"...Sixty years?" I croaked. "That’s... oddly specific."
His majesty leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, eyes glowing like molten red. "You will live long enough for me to have grandchildren who call me Grandpa. Do I make myself clear?"
I straightened immediately. "C-crystal clear, Your Majesty."
Clause Eight:The groom shall never, under any circumstance, attempt to win an argument against the Princess.
This clause is legally reinforced by Ravick and Theon’s signatures.
Ravick sighed heavily. "It’s true."
Theon crossed his arms proudly. "It’s our finest legal creation yet."
I continued reading, each line draining another ounce of my will to live.
Clause Nine:The groom shall never raise his voice, hand, or eyebrow at the Princess.
Clause Ten:The groom must provide snacks to the Princess during emotional turmoil, existential crisis, or boredom.
Clause Eleven:If the Princess says she wants the moon, the groom must figure out how to deliver it.
Clause Twelve:The groom shall not allow the Princess to lift anything heavier than a flower. If she attempts to, he must stop her immediately and lift it himself.
By the end of it, my hands were shaking and the parchment looked like a horror novel disguised as marriage law.
Absurd? Yes. Tyrannical? Absolutely. And yet... somehow, my heart felt strangely light.
Because despite the madness, the overprotectiveness, and the sheer psychological warfare written in ink... His majesty hadn’t yelled. He hadn’t drawn his sword. He hadn’t said Lavinia would marry someone else.
Somewhere under that terrifying exterior... he had accepted me. Just a little. And I guess...that’s enough for me as Cassius devereux son-in-law.
I smiled faintly, clutching the quill. "I shall sign it, Your Majesty."
His majesty gaze was sharp enough to cut through granite. "And seal it with your stamp."
I laughed weakly. "Ah, yes, of course. Wouldn’t dream of skipping that."
Theon murmured, "Brave man."
And as I pressed my seal to the cursed document, I couldn’t help but think—This wasn’t a marriage contract. This was a lifetime survival challenge.
***
[Later—Outside the Audience Chamber]
The heavy doors closed behind me with a dull thud, sealing in the suffocating air of the audience chamber. I let out a long, shaky exhale and loosened my collar. I survived.
Barely.
But before I could even take another step, a familiar voice gasped—
"Osric!"
Lavinia was pacing near the corridor’s marble columns, her teeth tugging at her lower lip, hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. The moment our eyes met, she rushed toward me, eyes wide and glimmering with worry.
"Osric... thank the stars, you’re still alive!"
I blinked. "You... were expecting me not to be?"
"Well, Papa had that look
," she said, clutching my hands tightly. "You know, the one that makes grown men faint? Did he hurt you somewhere? Did he threaten to cut off something important? You’re whole, right?"Her concern, paired with that adorable furrow between her brows, almost made me laugh. "Everything went well, Lavi. Don’t worry. His Majesty has... agreed."
Her eyes sparkled instantly. "He did?! Really?!"
I nodded, still dazed from the miracle. "Yes. It’s official."
Before I could even blink, she practically leaped toward me in delight. "That’s amazing! We can now Romance openly," she said, arms ready to wrap around my neck—
"TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER THIS INSTANT!!!"
The voice struck like thunder.
We both froze mid-motion as Emperor Cassius stormed down the corridor, his crimson cape sweeping behind him like a shadow of doom. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, eyes blazing with divine fury.
He came to stand between us, his towering form blocking Lavinia completely from view.
"Y-your Majesty!" I stammered, stepping back so fast I nearly tripped.
His majesty crossed his arms, the faint sound of his sword clinking echoing like a warning bell. "You are not yet engaged, and this is a public hallway! I will not have you—" he pointed a sharp finger at me "—touching my daughter under the same roof as me!"
Lavinia puffed her cheeks, muttering, "Papa! We weren’t even—"
"Silence, Lavinia," Cassius said sternly without even glancing her way. "You are my daughter before you are his anything."
I bowed deeply, sweating bullets. "Haha... y-your Majesty, we were merely—uh—expressing gratitude? You know... happiness? In a purely non-contact way?"
Theon, standing nearby, whispered under his breath to Ravick, "That didn’t sound convincing at all."
Ravick replied quietly, "He’s lucky His Majesty hasn’t drawn the sword yet."
His majesty’s eyes narrowed at me, and the faintest muscle in his jaw twitched. "I will be watching you, Osric. Every. Step."
I nodded rapidly. "Yes, Your Majesty. Understood, Your Majesty. I will keep my hands respectfully to myself—maybe even tie them behind my back for safety, Your Majesty."
Lavinia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Papa, you’re ridiculous!"
He shot her a look so sharp that even Theon straightened. "Ridiculousness is the price of fatherhood. You will understand when your daughter tries hugging a man in a hallway."
Lavinia blushed crimson. "Papa!"
Meanwhile, I tried not to smile—but failed miserably. Watching the two of them argue, seeing His Majesty’s overprotective glare clash with Lavinia’s fiery spirit... it almost felt like home.
His majesty turned to me once more, eyes narrowing to slits. "And wipe that smile off your face, boy."
"Right," I said immediately, forcing a grim expression. "Deeply serious. No joy here."
Theon coughed to hide his laugh. Ravick muttered, "He’s doomed."
Lavinia, however, smiled brightly—utterly unbothered by her father’s theatrics—and stomped away down the corridor, her steps light with happiness. His Majesty followed close behind, posture rigid, gaze sharp, hovering like a hawk guarding his most precious treasure.
Which, to be fair... she was.
I watched them go, my lips curving into a helpless smile.
Well, that’s how I finally succeeded in becoming Emperor Cassius Devereux’s son-in-law.
I took a deep breath, glancing toward the heavens as if asking for divine patience.
The journey is still long... but I think...I can survive this family.