Imprisoned Prince
Yandere Monster Imprisoned Prince x Reader Maid
Art from pinterest (they said ai generated)
You swallowed hard as you stood before the massive iron door that separated you from the monster prince. The torchlight flickered dimly in the dungeon corridor, casting eerie shadows along the damp stone walls. The tray in your hands trembled slightly as your grip tightened. You had heard the stories—the whispered tales of maids who never returned, of those who did but with mangled limbs and lifeless gazes.
Yet, you had no choice. The head maid had assigned you this duty, and disobeying her was not an option. You steeled yourself and pushed open the heavy door, the hinges creaking as if in protest.
Inside, the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight before you.
Osiris Asmor, the monstrous crown prince of Asmora, sat against the far wall, his long white hair a tangled mess, streaked with dried blood. His golden eyes, burning like molten fire, snapped to you immediately. His muscular frame was covered in bruises and cuts, his broad chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Heavy iron chains bound his wrists to the wall, but even restrained, he exuded an aura of dominance, of lethal danger.
Your knees almost buckled when his lips curled into a smirk.
"You’re new." His voice was deep, rough like gravel, sending a shiver down your spine. "The last one didn't last long."
You forced yourself to take a step forward, then another, until you stood a few feet away from him. You refused to look at the dried blood near his feet—the evidence of what happened to your predecessors.
"I brought your food," you said, your voice steadier than you expected.
Osiris tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "And you expect me to eat that?" His gaze flicked to the tray in your hands, then back to your face. "Do you know how many times your people have tried to poison me?"
You hesitated. You had heard the rumors, of course. The court was desperate to rid themselves of the monster prince, and subtle assassination attempts had been made. You glanced at the tray, then made a decision. Lifting the spoon, you scooped up a portion of the stew and took a bite.
His eyes widened slightly.
"There," you said after swallowing. "It's not poisoned."
A slow, amused chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Interesting. You're smarter than the others."
He extended his hands, the chains clinking ominously, and you stepped forward cautiously, placing the tray within his reach. His fingers brushed against yours—rough, calloused from years of wielding a sword. You flinched, and his smirk deepened.
"You fear me," he mused. "Good. You should."
You swallowed again, but this time, something about his tone sent a different kind of shiver through you. Something darker.
Days turn to weeks despite your fear, you returned to his cell every day. Perhaps it was the knowledge that if you didn't, someone else would be sent in your place—and they might not be as lucky. Perhaps it was something else entirely.
At first, Osiris was cold, watching you with a predator's patience. But as the days passed, his demeanor shifted. He started talking more, asking questions—personal ones. Your name. Your family. If you had a lover.
You learned things about him, too. How he had been trained in swordsmanship from the moment he could hold a blade. How Asmora was not the barbaric land of beasts your people painted it to be, but a kingdom rich in culture, in history. How he missed the open skies, the feeling of the wind against his skin.
And how he hated humans.
"They disgust me," he had said one evening, his voice dripping with venom. "Cowards, the lot of them. They betray, they destroy, they take what is not theirs."
You had hesitated before responding. "Not all of us are like that."
His golden eyes bore into yours, unreadable. Then, he had smirked. "Perhaps not you."
