The King's Bride

“Long before our time, before the peace you see now, Aetheria was a land of strife,” the elder handmaiden began, her voice weaving through the brightly lit chamber.

“The six great kingdoms—Summer, Winter, Spring, Autumn, Light, and Dark—were never content to rule their own lands. Each sought to eclipse the others, to crown themselves the true sovereign of Aetheria. Kings and queens, high lords and war generals, they bled their armies dry, turning the rivers red with ambition. Alliances were formed and broken like fragile glass. For centuries, war raged, a cycle of power grasped and power lost, a tale written in fire and blood.”

Althea sat still as the handmaidens continued their work, but her ears strained to catch every word. She’s heard the story several times but each time always felt like the first.

This was the only piece of her future she knew—the legend of the man she was to wed and the kingdom she would soon call home.

“Then came a child unlike any before,” the handmaiden continued, her hands carefully fastening the intricate gown over Althea’s shoulders.

“A commoner, with ancestors from all the different fae kingdoms, his soul was neither fire nor ice, neither light nor dark, neither summer nor winter, but all of it – a forbidden mix several generations down.”

The handmaiden took a deep breath before continuing. “His very existence was written in prophecies long before and his prowess in battle was spoken of before he could even wield a sword. With time, he forged an army so mighty, so relentless, that even the greatest warlords fell before his blade. They say his soldiers marched as if the wind itself carried them, and his enemies fled at the mere whisper of his name. His was a power that rivaled Aiken’s Golden Army of legend, a force that no kingdom alone could withstand.”

The silk of Althea’s gown shimmered as they smoothed it over her frame, its embroidery a silent testament to the unity she was now bound to uphold.

“Comb once for wisdom, twice for grace, thrice for a queen to take her place,” the elder handmaiden intoned, the gilded comb gliding through Althea’s long, ink-dark hair.

“Comb four times, for strength untold, five for a heart both fierce and bold. Six for love that binds the thread, and seven to seal the fate you tread.”

Another handmaiden knelt, slipping jeweled shoes onto Althea’s feet. “Silver to walk a steady path, gold to weave a lover’s clasp. Rubies to bind the will so true, sapphire to shield from hearts untrue.”

Rings were placed upon her fingers, one by one, each carrying a whispered blessing. “A ring of silver for a steady heart, a chain of gold for a bond to never part. A clasp of pearl for wisdom bright, a diamond stone to grant you sight.”

Althea’s breath remained even, though her heart pounded beneath the weight of the moment. Fate was fastening around her as surely as the delicate clasps of her gown and all her luxurious accessories.

A few days ago, the Emperor’s decree arrived for her to wed him as concubine. Two days after that came large boxes filled with silks, jewelry, along with her entire wedding ensemble. Everything had been arranged, handpicked for her.

A rustling of silk announced her mother’s presence. The Queen stepped forward, her gaze cool and assessing, though a flicker of something deeper hid beneath the surface.

“Survival is your best option, Althea,” she murmured, straightening a fold of the gown. “Lay low at first—do not antagonize anyone. Knowledge is the sharpest blade, and in the Emperor’s court, it is deadlier than steel. Learn everything about everyone, and you will always have the upper hand. That is how you turn threats into tools, danger into advantage.”

Then, for the first time, the Queen’s voice softened. “In a harem, love is both a strength and a weakness. Keep your own heart empty, my daughter, but ensure the Emperor’s heart has only you. That is how you will not only survive—but thrive.”

Althea swallowed hard, absorbing her mother’s words like scripture.

Then came her father.

The King’s face was drawn, his usually unshakable presence tinged with sorrow. He took her hands, his grip firm, warm.

“You are my darling daughter,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Sending you away to a place where I cannot see you, cannot protect you—it is the hardest thing I have ever done. Promise me you will write. If you are mistreated, I will come for you, even if it costs me my life.”

Althea blinked back sudden tears as he continued, “I hope you will find happiness there, Althea. Do not worry about Leria. The Fae have upheld their bargain; our borders have been reinforced with their magic. Your dowry has already been sent ahead to the palace, and if ever you find yourself in need of more gold, you need only ask. You are still my daughter, no matter where you are. Remember, even though you are far—my heart will always be with you.”

Althea bowed her head to acknowledge her father’s words.

Her kingdom, Leria, was a place where the borders to the Fae realm was at its thinnest. Due to this, some of the Fae magic has seeped into their land granting them several benefits, one of them being that the citizens of Leria are able to live a life longer than most mortals.

This magic had to be reinforced every hundred years and Leria’s princesses were always sent to different kingdoms of the Fae to solidify this treaty. It’s different this year though as it’s the first time that the Fae kingdoms have been united under one ruler.

The Queen sighed and waved the King away. “Enough, you will only make this harder for her.” She reached out, wiping the dampness from Althea’s eyes before stepping back. “Go now with your head high.”

As Althea began to walk towards the palace exit and her new life, her childhood maid and closest companion, Rania, moved closer.

Though she was a servant, she had been raised alongside Althea, and her loyalty was unwavering. She was shorter than Althea, her soft brown curls bouncing as she wiped at her already teary eyes. “I can’t believe we’re really going,” Rania sniffled, trying—and failing—to hold back her emotions. “Imagine! Aetheria! Do you think they have desserts that sparkle? Or maybe floating tea cups?” Her usual excitement shone through even in this solemn moment, bringing the faintest curve to Althea’s lips.

“I’m glad you’re coming with me, Rania. At least I know there’s someone there I can trust,” Althea whispered.

“Aw, you’re the best princess. You’ve treated me so well, like a sister instead of a servant. My life is yours and I will follow you wherever you go,” Rania vowed.

The great doors of the palace creaked open, revealing the twilight beyond. The moment they did, the citizens of Leria dropped to their knees in a synchronized bow, their silent devotion stretching as far as the eye could see. The sight stole Althea’s breath. This was not just her farewell—it was the severing of her old life.

A retinue of Fae guards awaited her, their armor glinting beneath the pale light of the twin moons. Their faces were unreadable, their posture rigid. They would be her escorts into a world she did not know, to a ruler whose heart she could not yet decipher.

She stepped forward, her gown whispering against the polished marble floor. The weight of the jewelry, the smooth glide of the silk against her skin, the rhythmic echo of her jeweled shoes—everything about this moment felt surreal. She walked through the great doors of her childhood palace for the last time and into the waiting carriage, its obsidian frame adorned with swirling silver etchings. The moment she crossed the threshold, the doors shut behind her, a sound that rang through the night like the toll of a bell.

She did not look back.

Her journey to Aetheria had begun.