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The Council has kept me busy travelling from one kingdom to another.

I sometimes spend months trapped in one land, trying to undertake whatever silly affair the Council wishes.

I cannot help but wonder if they are doing this on purpose, trying to keep me as far away from the Kingdom of Darkness as possible.

Somehow, they seem to know that something happened between Hadrian and me.

And they do not want it happening again.

So here I am, stuck in the Kingdom of Ice, watching the snow fall from their grey sky wondering what Hadrian is doing, and whether or not he even thinks of me the way I think of him.

Tabitha Wysteria

The afternoon sun spilt golden light over the gardens, where an extravagant picnic was being held. Laughter drifted up through the open window, a cruel contrast to the stillness within Alina’s chambers.

She stood before the mirror, gazing at her reflection—a girl draped in white and gold, a girl she did not recognise. The gown shimmered like sunlight on water, a masterful creation meant to announce her engagement to Prince Zahian. It was breathtaking. It was suffocating.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, trailing a silent path over her smooth skin before disappearing beneath the delicate lace of her collar .

Beyond the window, life continued without her. She was the only one drowning, the only one who felt the weight of inevitability crushing her ribs.

Ash did not know yet.

And when he found out…

She did not know how he would take it, but surely not lightly. They had always been each other’s shield, their bond a quiet rebellion against the world—even against their parents. But for the first time, Alina wondered if even Ash could save her now.

At least the dress is beautiful, Alina thought bitterly.

The door creaked open, and Queen Cyra entered, her sharp gaze sweeping the room with its usual air of quiet disapproval before settling on her daughter. ‘Why are you not outside? Your father is about to make the announcement.’

‘I have a headache.’ If she pretended to suffer from the same affliction that so often kept her mother locked away in her chambers, perhaps the queen would take pity on her.

‘So?’

‘I needed to lie down for a few minutes.’

Queen Cyra rolled her eyes. ‘Enough, Alina. Hurry up and head downstairs.’

Clearly, her plan had failed. Fine . She would move on to the next one.

Alina turned sharply, meeting her mother’s gaze with a boldness she did not quite feel.

‘No.’

‘Excuse me?’

Alina’s pulse thundered in her ears. A ripple of fear unfurled in her stomach—she had not meant for it to sound so sharp, so final. But it was too late now.

‘I said no.’

Queen Cyra laughed— a sound without humour, dismissive and cool. ‘Stop being ridiculous, child. Come on.’ She reached out, fingers aiming to clasp Alina’s arm, but the princess stepped back, just out of reach.

It was a small defiance.

But it was enough to summon the first crack of true irritation in her mother’s features. ‘I am growing angry, Alina.’

‘I do not care.’ Alina inhaled slowly, willing her hands to stop trembling. ‘I do not wish to marry prince Zahian. I refuse to marry him.’

She had not meant to follow Kai’s advice so… aggressively . But her own mouth had betrayed her, and now there was no going back.

Her mother’s face darkened, all traces of feigned patience vanishing.

‘You will do what is best for this family. You will put us first instead of yourself, you selfish girl,’ the queen spat.

‘Like you have done with your own children?’

The slap came before the pain.

A sharp, cracking sound that shattered the silence.

Alina gasped, her breath stolen from her as her head snapped to the side. The force of it sent her reeling, her knees threatening to buckle. A burning sting bloomed across her cheek, and before she could stop herself, tears welled in her eyes.

She had been struck before. But never like this. Never with such force. Never with such finality.

The queen’s chest rose and fell rapidly, but she composed herself quickly, smoothing the front of her gown as if nothing had happened.

She turned towards the mirror, checking her reflection, ensuring that not a single golden strand of hair was out of place.

Her voice was cool, detached. ‘I will give you a few minutes to clean yourself up. I expect to see you in the gardens in five minutes, Alina.’

Then, without another glance, she swept from the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

Alina did not hear her leave. She did not hear the hushed murmurs of her servant as gentle hands pressed a cold cloth against her cheek. She did not feel the dampness against her burning skin. She simply sat at the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the window, at the clear blue sky beyond.

For the entirety of her life, she had done everything that was expected of her.

She had obeyed .

She had followed the rules .

She had sat in silence while men spoke over her, laughing when she dared to have an opinion on matters far too complex for a woman to understand.

She had been a doll. A beautiful, delicate, empty thing. A doll made to smile, to be gazed upon, to be envied. And now, she was something far worse.

Now, she was a commodity .

A body to be sold for power. Her dreams, her desires, her fears—none of it mattered.

She was not a person.

She was not a princess.

She was a tool .

A tool that would be polished and adorned, used until she was no longer needed. And then? Then, like all things that lost their worth…

She would be discarded .

Alina rose from her seat, ignoring the frantic protests of her servants. Their hands reached for her, their voices urgent, but she had already made up her mind. She ran.

Down the long, gilded hallways of the castle, her slippered feet barely made a sound against the polished floors.

She knew the eyes that followed her—stunned, wide, whispering in her wake.

A princess was not meant to run. A princess was meant to glide, to be graceful and poised, a thing of elegance.

But Alina did not stop.

She moved with purpose, though she was uncertain of her destination. She was searching—chasing a singular thought, a single name, one person she needed to find.

By the time she reached the door, her chest was heaving, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

She knocked.

The door swung open, revealing Kai, his tall frame blocking the threshold, his lips curling into an amused smirk as he took her in—flushed, breathless, unraveled.

‘Well, princess,’ he said, his voice like a secret. ‘I certainly never expected it would be so easy to get you into my room.’

‘Do shut up.’ She pushed past him, careful to make sure no one saw her slip inside, then gestured sharply for him to close the door behind them. ‘Why are you not at the picnic?’

Kai arched a brow. ‘Why? Were you waiting for me?’ His teasing tone vanished the moment his gaze landed on her cheek.

The red mark stood stark against her skin, and in an instant, the light in his eyes darkened into something far more dangerous.

Without hesitation, he reached for her, his fingers brushing over her burning skin, his touch impossibly gentle. ‘ Who did this ?’

‘I did not come here for that purpose.’

‘Was it the guard?’

She blinked, caught off guard. ‘What ?’

‘Hagan,’ he clarified, his voice laced with lethal intent. ‘Did he touch you?’

Alina shook her head. ‘No, Hagan did not lay a hand on me. It was my mother. We argued, and she… she struck me.’

A growl rumbled deep within Kai’s chest.

‘Calm down, Kai,’ she said. ‘You are not going to attack my mother, the queen .’

‘ Watch me .’ His entire body had coiled with tension, the predator within him barely restrained, his black eyes a storm of fury. But after a slow exhale, his shoulders eased—just slightly. The storm subsided, though not entirely. ‘I do not mind starting another Great War for you, princess.’

Alina opened her mouth, but no words came.

No one had ever said such a thing to her before.

Her throat tightened, her vision blurring at the edges. How sad , she thought, that a foreign prince has shown me more kindness in weeks than my own kingdom has in my entire life.

‘I don’t want you starting a war for me, Kai.’ She turned away, trying to gather herself, her gaze wandering over the unfamiliar space. She had never been inside a man’s chambers before—except for Ash’s, but that hardly counted.

It was dark, the curtains drawn, keeping the world at bay. The bed was unmade, the sheets tangled, and a half-finished tray of food rested on the table, untouched. ‘We have maids, you know.’

‘I don’t like others touching my things,’ he said.

Alina’s gaze drifted across the room. None of it is yours , she thought. A suit of black armour gleamed in the corner, a few scattered weapons leaned against the wall. Her attention lingered on them.

She stepped forward, fingers itching to reach out.

‘They are hook swords,’ Kai explained, stepping past her to lift them from their resting place. Alina instinctively took a step back, wary of the sharp edges. Kai stilled, watching her carefully. ‘Do not be afraid. I won’t let anything hurt you.’

She wasn’t sure why, but his words sent something warm curling in her chest.

The swords were enormous, powerful. Every inch of them was black—dark metal, dark leather grips, dark wickedly curved blades that ended in deadly hooks. They were magnificent.

They called to her.

Her fingers twitched.

‘Kai, I want to ask something of you,’ she whispered, her eyes locked onto the weapons.

‘Anything.’

‘I want you to teach me how to fight.’ His smirk faltered.

She let the silence stretch, let him see the truth in her eyes before she spoke again.

‘I do not want to be defenseless ever again. And I do not want to depend on others to protect me. I do not want others starting wars for me. I want to be the one to start them.’

For a long moment, Kai said nothing.

And then—