Curiosity always got the better of you. And one day you wander too far from your village, nearly a full days ride away. You come upon an entire bustling city. One moment it’s just bare empty land, the next it’s there. You wander further into the city, staring at everything. Men and women with porcelain skin and red eyes and fangs. You must look out of place because watchmen stop you. “What is your name, Miss?” “Um…(Y/N)” “And you’re from here?” “Yes.” You didn’t know why, but you felt you needed to lie. The watchmen exchanged a look, “And to which coven do you belong?” They quickly seized you, clasping your wrists in irons and telling you you were blind and mute. “Take her to the King, she’s either of witches descent or a Blood Singer.” You hear someone say. You’re dragged through the city, but you can’t see anything. The shackles cut into your wrists, breaking the skin and making me bleed. Soundless sobs of fear leave your lips even more so when you hear a booming voice. As soon as the watchmen enter with you, Caliban stands from his throne, furious as soon as he smells your blood. “What have you done with her? Bring her here!” The watchmen, trembling, put you on your knees before the King. “Look at me, Beloved. Are you alright?” Gentle hands cup your face and when your eyes focus again, you see his emerald eyes searching your face, scanning you for injury.