"𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞."
A STORY IN WHICH, you've never had a choice, especially not when you were forced to marry the future king of marley, 𝘻𝘦𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳.
things were difficult from the start, a foreign country a host...
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When Eren was a small boy he'd learned the hard way that his life would never be simple. He didn't simply have a brother, he had a half-brother; he didn't simply have parents; Grisha was a monarch, and a thousand other things before he was a father; and the first thing that came out of people's mouths when Carla was mentioned was the word mistress or whore, depending on the mouth.
Although Eren didn't bear nearly the same amount of burdens that Zeke had to carry at the same age, he felt the weight hit his shoulders with the same intensity. He was only nine years old when he realized he loathed court and the nobles and everything they represented. So when he got the opportunity to leave it all behind, he took it without a moment of hesitation.
It just so happened that his first taste of independence happened when he sailed off to war at the age of fourteen. It only seemed like a natural next step, after all, Eren had always been gifted with a weapon, but it wasn't until he reached the battlefield that his elders taught him how to channel his endowed talents with actual skill and strategy, that he truly mastered the art of hand-to-hand combat.
That was the moment when Eren ceased to be merely a promising child and became a genuine threat on the battlefield, a beast, as his enemies would call him, for the way he rode out onto the battlefront and cut through men with a sword, like a blunt knife through warm butter.
The memories came back to Eren in brief, tainted flashes and he did his best to shake them away; but when he looked down at his dripping wet hands, they felt thick with grime. He dipped them into the bath water once more, swirling them around until he was sure that the water ran clear, but when he raised his hands to his face, they were still stained crimson red.
He was reluctant to admit that he was good at it, at killing. It wasn't something to be particularly proud of outside the sphere of warfare, and usually, death was simply a means to an end, the life of a man in exchange for another triumph in Marley's name.
Rarely did he ever kill to justify a wrong, and even the few times he had sought retribution, it was only in the name of friends he'd lost
But this time it was different, he'd felt that rush of hatred and uncontrolled rage, course through him, when he saw Zeke lay his hands on [Name]; when he heard the way he defended her; and when he saw the way his eyes glossed over with lust and admiration as she spoke.
Eren took a deep breath, taking in more steam than he had anticipated, and did his best to control the way his head pounded.
"What's wrong?" [Name]'s voice came quickly, pulling him out of his murky thoughts, and he found himself back in her private bathhouse again, with the scalding water surrounding them, and the steam making it difficult for him to think clearly.
"There's nothing wrong, I'm just thinking about things," He murmured, pulling her toward him, so that her bare back was up against his abdomen, and her head was resting on his shoulder.
