PITIFUL PLEADING
Isabella, undeterred, threw herself dramatically onto the ground in front of the gates, clutching her chest like a tragic heroine from a badly written play.
"Ohhh, woe is me!" she wailed. "A helpless, lost maiden, thrown into a cruel, heartless world!"
The guards stared.
"The horrors I have faced!" Isabella continued, rolling onto her side for extra dramatic effect. "The pain! The suffering! I have wandered for days—weeks, even!—searching for justice!"
Golden Mane raised an eyebrow. "You walked up here ten minutes ago."
"Silence!" She gasped as if his words physically pained her. "I beg of you, have mercy on a poor, defenseless girl! If I do not meet the Lion King, my heart will surely wither and—"
A small rock hit her in the side.
Isabella froze.
She turned her head slowly and saw a child—a tiny girl standing nearby with a handful of pebbles. The kid met her eyes, deadpan, and pelted another rock at her.
"Ow! What the—"
"You're lying," the child said bluntly.
Isabella sat up. "Excuse me?"
"You're not helpless. You're just being annoying."
The guards burst out laughing.
Isabella gasped, scandalized. "How dare you!"
The little girl shrugged. "Can you fight?"
"...No?"
"Then what would you even do in there?"
"...That's none of your business."
Another pebble hit her shoulder.
"Okay, seriously, whose child is this?!"
More laughter.
Isabella huffed, dusting herself off as she stood. "Fine. Keep your stupid palace. But you'll regret this."
The guards did not look like they were regretting anything.
THE HUNGER STRIKE PLAN
Isabella, having exhausted normal methods, decided to go full insanity mode.
She stood right in front of the palace gates, planted her feet firmly, and yelled at the top of her lungs:
"IF THE LION KING DOESN'T SEE ME, I WILL STARVE TO DEATH RIGHT HERE."
Girly was saying it, like she's had a proper meal in hours.
Silence.
The guards blinked.
Nearby villagers paused, exchanging glances.
Even the child from earlier stopped throwing rocks to watch the spectacle.
Isabella crossed her arms. "That's right. I will stand here, shivering in the cold, slowly wasting away under the merciless moon, until the great and mighty Lion King grants me an audience."
The guards exchanged looks and shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Instead of leaving, they remained firmly planted at their posts, arms crossed, watching her with mild amusement—clearly waiting to see how long she'd last.
Isabella's jaw dropped. "Wait—what?"
"You said you'd starve," Golden hair said to her meeting her eyes. "Not our problem."
The sleek-haired guard just smirked.
And just like that, the entire village casually went back to their business.
They ignored her. Completely.
Some even set up stools to watch.
"Oh, this'll be fun," a beastwoman chuckled.
"I give her an hour," another bet.
"Thirty minutes, tops," someone else added.
The audacity.
Isabella scowled, determined to prove them wrong.
Mind you she did not do this all at once.
After each rejection she came back every five minutes, making things even more annoying.
ONE HOUR LATER…
Isabella was suffering.
The night air was cool, but the hard-packed ground beneath her was unforgiving.
Her legs ached.
Her stomach was actively protesting.
Her pride was in shambles.
A small crowd had gathered—some watching with amusement, others casually placing bets on how long she'd last. A few idly chewed on roasted meat, their fire-lit faces flickering in the dim glow of torches.
She had not expected this.
Isabella wiped the dirt from her face, glaring at the entertained spectators. "You people are monsters."
Golden hair snorted. "And you're an idiot."
The child from earlier tilted her head. "So… are you gonna give up?"
Isabella straightened. Never.
But then…
A delicious, mouthwatering smell drifted through the air.
She turned.
A beastman was crouched near an open flame, roasting thick slabs of meat on a spit. The juices sizzled as they dripped into the fire, sending up bursts of rich, smoky aroma.
The sizzling sound. The glistening fat. The way he lazily turned the skewer, completely unaware of the torture he was inflicting on her…
Her stomach growled so loudly it echoed against the stone walls.
The man raised an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna keep starving?"
Isabella caved immediately.
"…Okay, screw this, I need food."
The entire village erupted in laughter.
She stomped over, grabbed a skewer, and sulked as she tore into the meat.
This was not over.
The Lion King would see her.
Even if she had to cause an even bigger scene.
ಠ﹏ಠಠ﹏ಠಠ﹏ಠಠ﹏ಠಠ﹏ಠಠ﹏ಠಠ﹏ಠಠ﹏ಠ
Isabella slumped against the thick wooden gate, her body heavy with exhaustion.
She had eaten, yes. But that barely helped when her legs still ached, her body was covered in dust, and her dignity had been stomped on repeatedly.
"You should let me in, because a beastman growled at me today. I growled back. He ran. I am the alpha now." Isabella had been sputtering Random nonsense since she sat there, she sounded drunk.
So really at this point the men, did not care anymore "or rather, your alpha now, because I am strong, you should fear me, and I deserve to see your king" She added as she stared at the sky.
She really did look pityful.
The village behind her was still alive with festivities. Fires flickered, casting long shadows against the huts made of rough stone and dried leaves. Laughter, the rhythmic beating of drums, and the scent of roasted meat still lingered in the cool night air.
These people… were celebrating something.
And they had no intention of sleeping.
She looked up at her system timer, the glowing numbers making her stomach drop.
7:56
Less than 10 minutes left before the system erased her from existence.
She sighed and rubbed her face, only to grimace at how grimy she felt. She must have looked awful. She smelled awful. Honestly, she was surprised no one had thrown a bucket of water on her yet.
By this point, she was too weak to even attempt sneaking in again. Bribery had failed. Begging had failed. Her hunger strike lasted exactly two hours before roasted meat shattered her will.
She was officially out of ideas.
And yet…
She stayed.
Sat there, back against the gates, too miserable to care.
And maybe, maybe that was what did it.
Because after what felt like forever, the murmuring of the crowd shifted.
One of the guards groaned. "Fine. Just bring her inside before she dies on our doorstep or something."
Isabella barely reacted.
It was only when rough hands grabbed her arms and hauled her up that she blinked in realization. "Wait, wait, wait— where are we going?"
"To the Lion King."
Oh.
Ohhh.
She straightened despite her exhaustion, smoothing her dust-covered tunic. She even ran her hands through her tangled hair in a useless attempt to make herself presentable.
She was about to meet the Lion King.
Her heart thumped.
Not because she was nervous.
But because finally—
She was about to be SAVED.
The guards led her through an entrance carved directly into the stone cliffs. The pathway was lit with torches, flickering against the rugged walls. They walked deeper, past layers of animal pelts and carved-out rooms, until finally…
They arrived.
It was a throne room.
Or at least, the stone-age version of one.
The Lion King sat on an elevated seat—more like a giant rock with furs draped over it. He was lounging, one arm resting lazily against the side, looking every bit like a predator watching his next meal.
And he was stunning.
White short hair in wild waves, barely tamed by the gold bands tying sections back. His features were sharp, his eyes an icy blue that practically glowed under the firelight. A faint scar ran down his left cheek, only making him look even better.
He was gorgeous.
Isabella felt a very concerning flutter in her chest.
…Oh, no.
She was in danger.
Not from death.
But from crushing embarrassingly hard on a man who could probably snap her in half.
Her moment of awe was rudely shattered by a voice dripping with mockery.
"What is this?"
Isabella turned to see a woman standing beside the Lion King.
She was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a wrap of fur and leather. Her dark, wild hair was adorned with small bones, and her golden eyes narrowed in disgust.