Until The King Falls

Throwing a tea party a day before the most important journey of her life hadn’t been her idea. 

To be precise, it went against all of Elise’s beliefs about preparation, revision and a proper night’s sleep before a big exam. Being sent away to marry was not an exam per se, but it felt close enough that she could not dismiss the comparison. Even if her school days were long behind her by now.

She looked out through her study window over the city of Verain one last time.

Rain slid down the tall window in long, silvery sheets, as if the city were cleansing itself, already washing away any trace she had left in the twenty-four years of her life here. The copper roofs of the university district gleamed dark beneath the storm.

She leaned her palms against the cold glass, watching the city blur and shift beyond it.

“Elise,” Lillette’s voice drifted from behind her, warm with amusement. “Come back here.”

“A moment,” she called back to Lilette, the very friend who had inspired this party.

“Are you contemplating a daring escape?”

“Stop it.” Elise turned, her dress fanning out in a neat circle. She failed to suppress her grin as their eyes met.

“Why would I? My future is looking far too promising for that.”

“We get it,” Celia, the second and only other guest at her party, joined in on their discussion. “You’re getting married.”

Lillette dropped onto the couch beside Celia with a huff. “Be honest now: You’re not even annoyed by that? You’re really just… okay with it?”

“I’m not just ‘okay’. I’m excited.”

Lillette frowned. “You’re excited to be sent to an island colony ruled by a prince Veiran openly calls brutal?”

“You’re repeating rumor,” Elise argued. “Father’s seen him. He’s talked to the envoys.”

“Your father’s also worried we’re going to be swallowed by the democracies next door,” Lillette shot back. “Our upcoming connection to the Empire is about the only thing keeping Verain relevant right now.”

Elise exhaled through her nose, resisting the urge to argue point by point. Lillette always did this, pulled everything into a debate until it stopped feeling like a conversation at all. And tonight of all nights.

“And you think he’d sell me off just to stay relevant?” Elise asked, brows lifting.

Lillette grimaced. “I think he’d sell you to the right version of a prince,” she said. “And he’s chosen King Daniel Vale. You know, the one everyone calls cruel.”

“And arrogant,” Celia added, leaning forward like she was contributing something essential.

She tilted her head. “Is he not also—”

“Frequently drunk,” Lillette finished.

Celia let out a small laugh, clearly delighted that they were building this together.

Elise let them have it, watching them with a patience that was almost practiced. She had expected this.

A few years ago, she would have said the same things, maybe louder. Back then, marriage had been a joke. Distant. Easy to laugh at because it had nothing to do with her.

Now it wasn’t. She was ready to stop being only her father’s daughter and become her own woman. Make her own rules. Have her own kingdom.

She shouldn’t need her friend’s approval for that. The thought flickered through her, quick and faintly annoyed. This wasn’t some romantic fantasy she’d talked herself into. It was a calculated choice of alliance. Still, she spoke before either of them could jump back in.

“He’s also young,” she argued. “Smart. Ninety percent on his leaving exams. He keeps animals. Horses, mostly. Dogs.” She shrugged, then took a teacup from the table beside her. “Athletic. And apparently handsome, depending on who’s reporting.”

Celia lifted her brows. “You’ve read him already?”

“I’ve read everything they sent,” Elise replied. “I see many issues that we need to discuss. But he’s not terrible. He’s…” She searched for a word. “Alive.” She grinned at them, almost jumping from glee.

Lillette made a face. “Alive?”

Celia let out a soft laugh, nudging her shoulder against Lillette’s.

“The bar seems even lower than I thought,” she muttered.

“Alright,” Elise said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “maybe alive was the wrong word.”

Elise straightened a little, her tone shifting to a more serious note. “But I want change. Everyone knows where the real power here sits. The merchants decide everything worth deciding.” She gestured lightly toward the window and the city beyond it. “Our court is nothing but decorum and debate.”

“So what,” Lillette cut in, leaning forward now, elbows on her knees, “you’d rather have a court where the king holds a sword over everyone’s head and decides who keeps theirs?”

Elise held her gaze. “We’re going to share that sword,” she said, more firmly. “And use it for justice.”

Lillette let out a short laugh, shaking her head.

“You want to cuddle up to a man who’s known for beheading people who displease him?”

“He hasn’t beheaded anyone in the last three years,” Elise pointed out, “and the last person he did behead was a rebel who tried to overthrow him. He’s not killing for the fun of it.”

“Elise, did you skip the part where they ruled out beheadings and introduced execution through noose? They probably kill someone there weekly.”

Elise scrunched her brows together. That part didn’t sound familiar to her. She had read every report her father had given her, studied trade documents, military records, tax structures, diplomatic correspondence.

Surely she would remember something like that.

Lillette’s expression suggested otherwise.

A small knot of uncertainty formed in Elise’s stomach but she wouldn’t let that deter her.

“I guess I will just have to see myself when I get there. My father chose him for me. That has to mean something.”

“Let’s just be grateful,” Lillette went on, and Elise did not need to look to know that familiar, mischievous tilt had crept into her expression, “he did not marry you off to the other brother.”

Celia straightened at once. “Why?” she asked, her eyes lighting with interest. “Felix is fascinating. Imagine Elise with the fire prince.”

“Let’s not,” Elise cut in before Celia could wander any further. She was fairly certain their imaginations were not arriving at the same place.

In any case, the thought was pointless. Felix had never truly been an option. He was the younger Vale brother, but in many ways the more valuable one.

The Vale dynasty hadn’t built an empire by accident.

Talent ran through their bloodline, awarding strange gifts that appeared unpredictably from one generation to the next. Not every Vale child inherited one, but when they did, the entire continent paid attention. For all her reading, Elise still did not understand what determined the gift.

Fortunately for Felix Vale, he had been one of the lucky ones who had inherited a gift. When his talent had revealed itself at eighteen, there had been no hiding it. He could summon fire from nothing. Since then, he’d spent years leading military campaigns across the Empire’s borders, expanding Vale influence wherever he marched. When he chose to tip a battle in the Empire’s favor, he left little behind but scorched earth.

A man like that was not getting married off to secure an alliance with a relatively small kingdom like theirs.

“I prefer Daniel,” Elise said.

Both women looked surprised.

She immediately regretted how that sounded.

“I mean politically,” she corrected quickly.

Lillette’s expression made it very clear she was unconvinced.

Elise pressed on anyway.

“From what I’ve read, Daniel inherited no gift. At least none significant enough to have books written about it.”

Unlike Felix. There were entire memoirs devoted to him and the man was barely older than she was. She was sure she would find an entire section dedicated to Felix Vale in any public library in Avenor.

“No gift sounds preferable,” Elise continued. “It must be difficult to meet someone as an equal when they can casually set things on fire.”

“I doubt the powers will be the only thing keeping you from equality,” Lilette muttered.

“Elise can manage him,” Celia declared before Elise could answer. She smiled at her with such certainty that Elise felt almost undeserving of it. “If anyone can, it’s her.”

Elise laughed softly and shook her head.

“I’m not going to fix him. But I will be his queen, as much destined to rule as he is.”

She hesitated, her confidence softening at the edges. Then, more quietly, “That’s what he wrote in his last letter.”

Celia’s brows rose. “He writes to you now? I thought he didn’t respond.”

“He didn’t,” Elise admitted. “Not at first.” Her gaze dropped to her hands before she forced herself to meet their eyes again. “I think… he wanted to be certain of what he said.”

Lillette stared at her like she’d lost her footing entirely. Maybe she had. Elise could admit that much. It wasn’t every evening one learned the outline of the rest of one’s life.

“Well? Show us, silly,” Celia cheered.

Elise almost refused.

The letter was hers. It had been written for her eyes alone, not to entertain friends who still spoke of Daniel as if he were a distant rumor instead of her future husband. But it was their last night together and what did it matter. She might as well indulge them.

She reached into the pocket sewn into her dress and felt the familiar edge of folded paper. She kept the letters there on purpose. Sometimes, without thinking, she’d slip her fingers inside just to make sure they were still there. It grounded her more than she liked to admit.

She unfolded the page carefully, smoothing it once and began to read.

My Dearest Elise,

I am not a man who writes love letters, which may be exactly why I find myself attempting one now. If nothing else, you may take this as proof that you inspire unusual efforts.

Soon, you will be my queen. Not only because the Empire has arranged it, but because I have chosen it and I hope, in time, you will choose it too. I have ruled alone for long enough to know its weight, and I would rather carry it beside someone than continue pretending it is lighter than it is.

If you allow it, I will be your husband, your partner and your king. I cannot promise poetry, as you have likely already noticed, but I can promise that what I offer will be honest.

With hope,Daniel

When Elise finished, silence settled over the room.

Lillette broke it first with a sharp, incredulous laugh. “You are absolutely going to get yourself killed.”

“Oh, don’t be cruel,” Celia said. “That was… unexpectedly sweet.”

Elise pressed the letter to her chest, warmth rising in her cheeks.

Celia shook her head slowly, though her expression softened. “I truly hope it works the way you imagine.”

The words settled heavily between them, sincere enough that neither woman immediately spoke afterward.

The rain continued against the windows, steady and endless. Somewhere deeper in the manor, servants moved through the halls preparing for tomorrow’s departure, their distant footsteps muffled by thick carpets and closed doors.

Behind her, Lillette broke the silence again.

“And you really believe your father chose well?” she asked Elise.

Her tone wasn’t cruel, only cautious.

“We all know Avenor is divided,” she continued. “Half the island hates the Empire.” Her gaze rested on Elise. “And by extension… hates you.”

Elise didn’t look away from the rain. “I believe Father sees what I see. Potential. He’s sending me to a ruler who needs a queen unafraid to challenge the current rule.”

“And what about love? Do you not want him to fall in love with you?”

Elise considered that, turning the letter in her hands.

“I want his respect,” she said at last. “And if I’m fortunate… perhaps love will follow behind it.”

The room broke into laughter, the tension breaking into warmth.

A knock sounded on her door.

Her father poked his head in. “Elise, I hate to intrude, but it’s time for your guests to go. You’ve got an important journey ahead of you.”

“We’re on our way out,” Lilette said.

Celia slipped on her jacket. “Sorry for staying so late. It’s just so exciting. Soon Elise will be married and sent off to that gorgeous tropical island.”

Her father’s mouth tightened with obvious skepticism.

“We are sending Elise to Avenor to secure an alliance that will hopefully keep the Vales from turning their attention toward Veiran. Not so she can take a beach vacation, Celia.”

Celia bit her lip, quickly turning her attention to correcting her jacket. Her father turned to Elise.

“I hope you remember that when you arrive there, my child,” he said. “You are not going as a daughter or a friend. You are going as leverage.”

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Hi to everyone reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please leave some feedback if you did (and also if you didn't). I would love to hear what you like and dislike about the story so I can adjust.

Thank you!

Jass