Chapter 1 The Marriage Decree
Chapter 1 – The Marriage Decree
The throne room of Velaryth was a cathedral of judgment, with ceilings that scraped the heavens and stained-glass windows that bled colored light across the polished obsidian floors. Princess Elara Wynn hadn’t walked these halls in seven years, but they hadn’t forgotten her. Neither had the people who lined the room like statues — nobles, soldiers, lords and ladies in brocade and velvet, all watching the girl who had once been exiled like a curse.
She stood still, draped in emerald silk that clung too tight, her spine a rod of ice. Every breath she took echoed in her bones. She could hear them whispering: 'She was locked away for a reason.' 'Didn’t she set the East Tower ablaze?' 'Cursed child.'
But Elara didn’t break. She looked ahead, past the towering pillars and flickering braziers, to the dais where her father — the king — stood, crown glinting in the torchlight. His face was unreadable, carved from the same stone that built the throne beneath him.
“By decree of the Crown,” he began, voice thunderous and final, “Princess Elara Wynn shall be joined in holy union to Crown Prince Kael Morwyn, on the first moon of summer.”
The room burst into applause, forced and formal. Trumpets sang. Somewhere, a woman sobbed with joy. Elara stood motionless, hands clasped before her like a statue carved for sacrifice.
From the left, footsteps approached. She turned — slowly — and saw him. Prince Kael.
He looked like the sun forged into flesh. Golden hair slicked back, uniform pristine, blue eyes the same cold hue as frozen lakes. He bowed before her, low enough to honor the performance but not the woman.
“My lady,” he said, his lips barely moving. “Smile. The people are watching.”
Elara smiled. A small, practiced thing. It did not touch her eyes.
Kael leaned closer, so that only she could hear. “Play your part well, Princess. Or I’ll make sure you don’t live long enough to regret it.”
And then he took her hand and turned to the crowd, lifting her palm like a trophy.
They cheered. Roared.
But Elara’s heart beat louder than all of them.
Because she felt it. A pull. A gaze.
She looked up — just for a moment — to the dark balcony above the court. And there, between the velvet curtains, a shadow moved. A figure cloaked in black. Watching her.
Her breath caught.
*Ren.*
It had been one week since he stopped her carriage in the forest. One week since he pressed a dagger to her throat, called her name like a secret, and vanished without taking her life.
One week since he stole her ring… and with it, her silence.
And now he was here. In the palace. In the lion’s mouth.
That night, when she returned to her chambers, there was a single red rose on her pillow.
Beside it — a dagger. And a note:
*If you bleed… it won’t be alone.*
