Chapter 1
Jaderyn knew pain. She knew suffering, anguish, and loss as well as the taste of blood. It was ingrained in her soul from birth.
Yet as she stared into the coffins of those she had only known to be filled with life, the emotions that filled her were foreign. Unnatural. Like the sun rising in the west and setting in the east.
It swirled inside of her like a tornado, ripping apart any sanity she spent years clinging onto.
Her father reached for her hand, continuing even as she flinched. His words were soft, as though she was still a child of ten, “The wolves will pay for this, daughter. I assure you.”
She kept her eyes ahead, knowing they now held an unnatural glow of anger to them. She could not look at him for if she did she might have forgotten him to be her father. All sense would be lost on her and, King or not, she would have ripped his throat out then and there.
“I wanted to call war upon the werewolves long ago and you displaced me as Leader of the Guard—called me a warmonger,” She reminded, “and now my sister and my mother lie dead in a box.”
Jaderyn took a deep breath, allowing the cool winter air to quell the fire inside of her. She took a final look at her family’s bodies just before they were carted off into the sea. It was then she met her father’s eyes, hands gripping her wrists to keep her from harming her precious king.
She was meant to be heir to the throne. Instead, he named his dear Alassandra as crown princess. He refused to listen to her advice, backtracked every order, and made her a laughing stock in front of his council. He listened as his King’s Council spurned her, dishonored her name and title, all without the slightest reprimand. She had bit her tongue then. She let him and his council whisper and giggle at her expense. She bowed her head when she should have fought.
Now they both paid for it.
Her voice was sharp, “This—their murders—is not on the wolves. It is on you, Father.”
---------------------The Sun—-----------------
Her crowning was less than a week later. Her mother and sister’s bodies had not yet been lost to the waters and she was being crowned Princess of Draikar. It was a title she had fought for for over a decade and now it was finally hers.
She just had to lose everything to gain it.
The lady’s maids kept quiet as they dressed her in the finest of silks made in red and gold. Her tiara, gifted to her by her mother, now sat amongst a sea of black curls. Blood rubies hung from her neck and ears. They had painted her the perfect picture of a Draikarian princess.
Blood spilled from her eyes against her will. Her lady’s maid was quick to wipe the tears from her cheek, cupping her face softly.
“Do not cry, princess,” the Lady’s maid said. “You will do great things for the kingdom as heir.”
Jaderyn’s lips quirked up, a distant cousin of a smile playing on her face. It was odd. She had always heard that her nature would bring fire to her home and yet people now spoke of her ability of greatness. She had known the courts to have more than one face but to show them so clearly before her was… baffling to say the least.
The maid continued, “How the Queen would have loved to be here. Rest her soul.”
This Jaderyn knew to be truth. Because unlike Court and her father, her mother truly accepted Jaderyn. She had been the only one, aside from Alassandra, to go against her father’s decree—to stand with her instead of against her.
She placed her hand on the ruby necklace, closing her eyes for the smallest moment, imagining what it would have been like if fate had chosen a different path. A happier path.
“Princess, they are ready for you,” Her feeder, Asra, called from the door, smiling softly at the sight of her.
She waved away the elder women, giving him a clear view of her. “How do I look?”
His answer was quick and sincere, “Gorgeous, as always your Highness.”
Asra’s words lifted the smallest of weights off her shoulders. She found it easier to breathe and far easier to walk to the throne room had he not said a word at all.
Lords and Ladies alike lined the throne room with little space between them. They had all come from across the kingdom to pledge allegiance to her. A feat she thought impossible at one point.
Her heels clicked across the old floor, echoing as the throne room fell silent and all eyes turned to her. She supposed it lucky that her mother and father insisted on her attending every function. She would have likely crumpled beneath the weight of their stares had they not.
She kept her head high, placing one foot in front of the other until she stood before her father’s throne.
One by one the Lords and Ladies knelt before her. Her father’s council–soon to be her’s—was first, showing the truth behind the King’s new decree. They stood for hours on end beneath the blood moon until there were no more nobles to pledge fealty to.
When the last of the nobles had pledged and went she turned to her father, taking one step up towards the Twilight Throne. Her father locked eyes with her as he stood, keeping his eyes on her even as he spoke.
“I, Karan Athe eighth of his name, King of Juneavar and the Ember Isles and Guardian of the Old Kingdom, do hereby name Jaderyn Athe Princess of Draikar and heir to the Night Throne.”
