Chapter 1
NOX ASHCROFT Illustration by HoneyLy
ALICE ASHWYN Illustration by HoneyLy
Day 15 of the Harvest, Year 1437
Kingdom of Emberhold 9:00 AM
"Your Highness... are you truly certain about this decision?"
Christ's voice broke the silence of the royal study.
Morning sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting a golden glow across the marble floor and the walls emblazoned with the royal crest. Everything about the room spoke of grandeur.
But no amount of splendor could chase away the tension hanging in the air.
Christ stood rigid, hands clasped behind his back, his body trembling faintly.
For more than fifteen years, he had been both sword and shadow to Prince Nox Ashcroft—privy to secrets that never once reached the ears of the nobility.
And today, the prince was once again making a decision his own reason struggled to accept.
Nox said nothing. He didn't answer right away.
His gaze remained fixed on the window, on the kingdom of Emberhold stretching out beneath the morning light—castle rooftops, watchtowers, the winding main roads, all breathtaking from this height.
The kingdom was his. The throne had been waiting for him since the day he was born. And yet none of it had ever once made his heart race.
Not like the person he'd met three days ago.
A faint smile touched his lips—small, but enough to soften the sharp lines of a face known throughout the realm for its coldness, its unreachable distance.
Slowly, he turned.
His dark eyes met Christ's.
Eyes that were always sharp. Unreadable. The kind that made nobles lower their heads rather than hold his gaze too long.
But this time, something lingered beneath that cold stare. Something Christ had never once witnessed before.
Certainty—about something he knew was wrong.
"I'm certain," he said quietly.
Christ swallowed hard and took a single step forward.
"Your Highness, if the council learns of this decision, they won't stay silent."
Nox's expression remained calm. Dark. Utterly without hesitation.
"I don't care. Besides..."
His voice dropped lower.
"...the reward is worth it."
Silence.
Christ understood exactly what he meant. There was only one person in the world capable of making the heir to Emberhold forget the rules of the palace entirely.
And of all people—
A witch.
For centuries, witches had been blamed as the root of every disaster. Cursed names. Names spoken only in prayers of banishment.
Hunted.
Despised.
Condemned before they were ever given the chance to speak in their own defense.
But to Nox, his eyes hadn't deceived him.
Because what he'd found in the heart of the Black Forest wasn't a monster.
It was someone far too gentle to survive in a world this cruel.
Someone whose very presence made a cursed forest feel bathed in light.
Someone who, without even realizing it, had stolen something no one had ever managed to take from him before.
His heart.
Flashback: Three days earlier...
The Black Forest.
A forest that had become legend for hundreds of years.
No one could say for certain how vast it truly was. An eternal mist clung to every corner, while ancient trees rose so high they seemed to hold up the sky itself.
People said the forest was alive.
That it breathed.
That it watched every foolish soul brave enough to step within its bounds.
And whoever got lost in it never came back.
But that was exactly why Nox had come.
Not out of courage. Out of curiosity—the pride and confidence of an heir who believed there was no corner of the world he couldn't conquer.
And then, in the stillness of the forest, he found her.
At the edge of a lake, its water clear as crystal.
Beneath the shade of trees older than the first kingdom ever built.
A young woman knelt among the wild grass.
Her hair, golden, shimmered softly wherever sunlight slipped through the canopy above.
A few white birds circled her without fear, as if content simply to keep her company.
Nox went still.
The scene was too peaceful. Too impossible.
For a moment, he thought it might be a trick of the forest—one of the illusions people always spoke of.
Slowly, she turned.
His dark eyes met her clear ones.
Time seemed to stop.
The gaze that had always been sharp as a blade melted, frozen in silence.
Nox stood there, captivated by something he didn't understand at all.
And for the first time since he'd been born heir to the throne, he forgot how to look away.
.
"Who are you?"
Her voice was soft, gentle—clear even against the quiet of the forest.
Nox startled, just slightly.
He dismounted, his boots landing on the grass below.
He began walking toward her, calm and certain, the way a man used to being obeyed always was.
"I'm Nox Ashcroft."
He stopped a few paces before her.
"Prince of the Kingdom of Emberhold."
Alice's eyes widened for a brief second.
Emberhold?
The name wasn't unfamiliar to her. Not because she'd ever set foot there, but because her mother had once told her stories of just how vast the kingdom was.
A prosperous kingdom.
A kingdom with the strongest army in the land.
A kingdom whose name reached even the farthest edges of the forest she called home.
Clearly, she had never imagined that someone from there could ever stand before her.
"A prince?"
Alice quickly bowed her head, the motion hurried.
Nox studied her.
There was no excessive fear in her. No attempt to draw his attention.
Everything about her was simply... natural.
Only a kind of sincerity that felt entirely foreign to him.
"Your name?"
She looked up at him again and smiled.
"Alice..."
A simple name. And yet, somehow, Nox found it impossibly easy to remember.
"Alice," he repeated softly.
His gaze drifted around them.
"You live here?"
She nodded slightly.
"Yes."
"Alone?"
The question made her smile fade, little by little.
"No," she answered. "I'm with my mother."
"Where is she now?"
Silence.
A few seconds passed before Alice finally spoke.
"My mother was taken."
"Who took her?"
"Soldiers from Verdantis."
Her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her cloak.
"A week ago, she went into town to sell what we'd harvested, like she always does. But they arrested her without warning."
Her voice grew fainter.
"They accused her of being a witch."
Nox said nothing.
"And... is it true?"
He stepped closer.
Alice lowered her gaze.
"Yes."
The word came quietly. Without a trace of resistance.
"The sentence?"
His voice had grown heavier.
Alice didn't answer. But her face told him everything he needed to know.
Execution.
A punishment so often justified as a way to cleanse the world of what people feared—regardless of whether guilt was ever truly proven.
But to Alice, that woman wasn't just someone accused.
She was her mother. The only family she had left.
"I want to save her," Alice said softly.
"I don't care what people think of us. I just want to live... and bring my mother home."
Nox looked at her face—gentle, yet cloaked in a despair so heavy it seemed to weigh down the very air around her.
Woosh.
A soft wind stirred, sweeping her golden hair into motion.
A pause. No words. No sentences exchanged.
Alice's eyes lifted toward the sky, filled with quiet hope. Nox, meanwhile, could only watch her, utterly transfixed.
Around them, dry leaves drifted down from the branches above, as if counting each passing second.
A long moment stretched on—until, finally, Nox spoke again.
"I can help you."
Alice raised her head. Her innocent gaze locked onto his.
"You?"
"Yes."
The answer came so easily. As if saving someone from execution was nothing at all.
Alice stayed silent.
In all her years in the Black Forest, she'd rarely encountered another human being. Everything she knew came only from what her mother had told her.
Stories of kingdoms.
Stories of nobles.
Stories of a world beyond the edge of the forest.
But she knew one thing for certain—
No one offered help without a reason.
"Why?"
Her question made Nox's lips curve into a faint smile.
"Because I need your help."
Alice's brow furrowed.
"My horse is sick," Nox continued. "I've heard witches are skilled in crafting healing remedies."
Alice fell silent for a moment.
"If I heal your horse?"
"Then I'll help your mother."
His answer was said with complete conviction.
Alice studied him for a long moment. A prince from a great kingdom now stood before her, offering something she'd never once been able to grasp on her own.
A chance.
A chance to save her mother.
"Is that all?"
Her question made Nox fall silent again. He dipped his head slightly, then took a step closer.
One.
Two.
Three.
Alice stepped back with each one—until—
Thud.
Her back met the trunk of an old sequoia tree behind her.
Her clear eyes stared up at him, confused. Nox held her there with a gaze so sharp, so demanding, she couldn't look away.
"No," she whispered.
Alice stayed still, waiting for whatever condition came next.
"You'll have to come with me to Emberhold."
She stilled.
"To the palace?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
Nox didn't answer right away.
Slowly, his hand rose. His fingers brushed against her cheek, dusted with faint freckles. The touch was bold—far too bold—yet gentle enough to leave her frozen in place.
"This is what matters most," he said, pressing each word out like a verdict being read.
Alice said nothing. She waited.
Nox's lips curved faintly.
"Alice..."
His voice dropped low.
"I have gold. Diamonds. Wealth that might never run out, not even until the end of time."
His gaze never left her face.
"But none of it has ever once interested me."
He leaned closer.
"Because to me, all of it feels... ordinary."
Alice's breath caught. Her throat suddenly felt dry.
"But you..."
A pause.
"You're different."
His voice dropped even softer, his warm breath brushing against her face.
"Too radiant for a cursed forest like this."
Her eyes widened. Her heart began to race.
"And I can't bear to delay bringing you with me..."
In the stillness of the Black Forest, Nox's voice fell to a whisper—full of certainty.
"...that's the condition."
(...)
"Your Highness."
Christ's voice sounded distant.
But Nox didn't answer. His mind was still caught in the memory.
In a pair of clear eyes that had looked at him in confusion. In a gentle face that had slowly flushed at his words. In a witch who stood alone in the heart of the Black Forest, yet carried a heart far purer than most who lived behind the palace walls.
Alice.
Her name surfaced in his mind once more.
Until, finally—
"Your Highness."
Christ's voice came through more clearly this time.
Nox startled slightly. The vision of the Black Forest faded, giving way to the grandeur of the royal study once more.
He drew a slow breath.
Then lifted his head.
The faint smile that had graced his face moments ago was gone now. What remained was only the heir to the Kingdom of Emberhold.
Calm.
Cold.
In complete control.
Christ watched him in silence, asking nothing more.
Because he already knew. The prince's decision would not change.
Nox turned. He reached for the royal cloak resting beside him.
"Prepare everything."
Christ bowed his head at once. "As you wish, Your Highness."
Nox walked toward the door without hesitation, without looking back. Then, in a low voice full of certainty—
"We depart."
To be continued...
