Page 1
Story: Princes of Ash
1
Verity
I feellike an intruder in my own skin as I’m led up the aisle.
It can’t be the dress, all white and sparkling, because it’s not so unlike the one I wore my first night in this palace. It’s older, though. That much I’m sure of. The touch of age has softened and yellowed the lace that frames my décolletage. Its long silk train drags behind me as if this were a wedding, and why shouldn’t it be? After all, three men dressed in their finest tuxedos are waiting for me across the room, their heads bowed as each step brings me closer to them.
We’re unequivocally bound.
And then there’s the man pressing my hand firmly into the crook of his arm, guiding me with pride.
Rufus Ashby.
My father.
He could be the source of this feeling—this sense that I don’t belong in my own body—but I know he’s not. It’s not the weight of the tiara on my head, nor the PNZ members’ gazes following me as they stand erect, hands clasped behind their backs. It’s not the cloying scent of roses. It’s not even the sight of the throne ahead, the memory of all the pain I’ve felt in this room, and the dread that there’s more to come.
I know exactly what it is.
It’s the strange, tainted life growing inside me.
I’d block it all out if I could—the stares of the frat. The weight of Ashby’s hand pushing on my knuckles. The curling sensation of sickness as I grow closer to the three men standing before the throne. However, I can’t possibly do it. I feel every gaze, every inch that brings me closer to them, as acutely as a thousand pinpricks. Or worse, the feel of them inside of me, making deposit after deposit of sperm.
It isn’t until we reach them—Wicker, Lex, and Pace—that I notice how stony their faces are. Perfectly composed, heads lowered in a supplication that I know can’t be real.
I fight the urge to spit in their faces.
Ashby turns as soon as we reach them, spinning me to face the room. A sea of somber faces stares back at us, and I swallow back bile at the memory of what they all did to me, not even a whole week ago. They all wait for him to speak, which isn’t a surprise. Ashby does seem to love having a captive audience, and he’s the King. If anyone thinks the coronation might be about the Princess, then they’re proven wrong the instant he steps forward.
“To create is to reign,” he eventually speaks, lifting his chin.
“To create is to reign,” the men in the room repeat.
Candlelight sharpens Ashby’s features, and I shudder to think how much of them might be reflected in my own. He’s my father. As absurd as the statement was, I have no doubt in its truth.
“That’s the saying, isn’t it?” His blue eyes scan the room, lips curved into a satisfied grin. “I’ve dreamed of this day. I won’t deny it. To stand here with my blood,” he lifts a hand, gesturing to me, “and my spirit,” he turns to gesture to the Princes next. “And, most importantly, the heir they’ve made for me. Forus.”
I stand, frozen with disgust, as he places a palm on my belly, not even meeting my gaze.
He actually appears misty-eyed as he addresses the room. “Today,Ireign. Not with fear. Not with influence. But with blood and spirit. This isn’t just a coronation—it’s a promise met. Renewal and hope, but most of all, legacy.”
He turns to me next, finally looking into my eyes as he takes my hand.
“Do you understand the covenants of your position?” he asks.
Despite how my belly roils, I nod.
He traps me in his stare, wide and fervent. “You will nourish the child that blossoms within your womb.”
I nod. “As you command.”
“You will serve it before anyone else—even your Princes.”
“Even their King?” The words escape my mouth without my bidding, but I can’t find it in myself to regret them, even as his stare turns hard and flinty.
“I assure you,” he says, voice low, “your King and the well-being of his heir are as one.”
Hisheir. I hear the word loud and clear, and that roiling sickness in my belly hardens to stone. I realize that’s what I’ll need to endure what’s coming.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179
- Page 180
- Page 181
- Page 182
- Page 183
- Page 184
- Page 185
- Page 186
- Page 187
- Page 188
- Page 189
- Page 190
- Page 191
- Page 192