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According to the many history books I’d read, Muvaria and Osacan had always been rival kingdoms, but never, ever had these two important nations gone to war. At least, not until now.

Why? Because even if their kings didn’t like each other, they had far too much respect for the precious lives of their people to send them away from their families to die in eternal, sterile battles.

So, what happened on the other side of the border to bring the hand of the Osacan king, the infamous Black Demon , to personally behead my father?

The answer was simple: Elendur Silh, the Prince of Osacan, took his place on the throne of his progenitor, Yblis.

Clearly, invading Muvaria had been Elendur’s first political decision.

Our servants rushed to remove the body of King Mersif Carlion of Muvaria before I, his daughter, was dragged like a common criminal to the feet of the Black Demon, Dovah the Bloodthirsty.

Dovah was the first knight and hand of justice of the new sovereign of Osacan.

As I knelt, two knights forced me to lower my head, one hand pressing firmly on the top of my skull, until I was bowed before him as low as possible.

As a result, I didn’t immediately see who I was dealing with.

My field of vision was limited to his charcoal-coloured sollerets, the metal of which was smeared with a viscous substance.

It became clear that it was blood as some of it stained the tiles beneath his feet.

My father’s? I thought suddenly and painfully. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks.

I knew Dovah by reputation. According to rumours, he was known as the Black Demon because of his armour, his body tattooed with strange symbols, and his gigantic ebony stallion.

Not to mention the fact that he was also a ruthless killer.

He appeared overnight at the court of the late King of Osacan, and no one knew his origins or who he really was until he became the king’s hand.

There wasn’t a single person in the Highlands who wasn’t aware of Dovah’s talent as an assassin and his taste for blood.

And this man had just decapitated my father.

My heart sank, engulfed by suffering, while my mind remained empty.

I became a kind of receptacle that only vaguely understood what was going on around it.

“Who is it?” asked Dovah.

His deep voice was distorted by the helmet he wore.

“King Mersif’s daughter, Your Lordship,” promptly replied one of his knights.

A brief silence passed, yet it seemed to last an eternity.

“Is she a witch or a magician?” he asked again.

“No,” replied the two men who were still keeping me close to the ground.

“Incredibly skillful, far more agile than me in combat?” persisted Dovah.

This time, the knights hesitated to answer. Something in their master’s attitude or voice seemed to worry them.

“N-no,” they stuttered in uneasy unison.

“So, if this woman represents no danger, why hold her like this?”

Everyone in the throne room held their breath. The atmosphere suddenly became stifling. The knights immediately let go of me, without helping me to my feet. After a few moments, trembling with all my limbs and my heart in my throat, I stood up to face my father’s assassin.

I saw nothing. I saw nothing but an imposing suit of armour as black as darkness and an enormous sword worthy of a giant. He held it like others lift a stick from the woods.

On his breastplate was engraved the head of a ferocious dragon, mouth open, eyes set with rubies, giving it a demonic air.

His armbands and spaulders resembled sharp claws.

Even his visor was monstrously frightening, complete with fangs.

This was no knight, but a creature straight from the Underworld.

I stood there before him, frightened but curiously ready to face death. Death...Its scent was everywhere, in every corner of our stormed castle.

“Princess,” he greeted me.

The tone of his voice! This despicable man was smiling behind his visor! There was nothing funny about this situation, and yet he was enjoying himself? I clenched my fists and forced myself to swallow back the tears of terror that threatened to flood my cheeks.

“What’s your name?”

“Ashana Carlion of Muvaria,” I answered through gritted teeth.

Dovah beckoned a knight to bring him something.

“Well, Princess of Muvaria, I’m not happy about this,” announced Dovah, “but you and I have no choice but to bow to Elendur’s will. I’m bound by my oath, and you...”

He turned his head in my direction as if his helmet was no more of a hindrance than that.

“I imagine you want to spare your people and what’s left of your family.”

At the time, I understood nothing. What was he trying to tell me? Spare my sisters? The people of Muvaria? How?

Dovah took his time and skillfully unrolled the parchment he’d just been given, as if his gauntlets weren’t equipped with countless lethal spikes.

“I don’t follow you, Your Lordship,” I declared, my voice hoarse with emotion.

“King Elendur Silh of Osacan asks me to accept you as his wife. Mainly for two reasons. The first, to establish his authority over the lands of Muvaria in his name, and the second, to finally force me to take a wife. In exchange, we guarantee the lives of your subjects, your sisters, and yourself, of course. Personally, I gain no benefits from this, only responsibilities I could easily have done without.”

“And if I refuse?”

These words escaped my lips before I could even think them, as if by reflex.

“I have orders to kill you. All of you,” he articulated without revealing the slightest trace of emotion in his voice.

A black veil clouded my vision and I almost fainted.

“I...”

My mouth went dry, and I had to moisten my lips several times before I could muster even a little saliva.

The answer I was about to give was more painful than anything I’d ever experienced.

My heart was being ripped out. Yet I knew I had no choice.

I knew it was my only option to protect my family and my people.

“I agree to marry you,” I said harshly.

He didn’t respond immediately.

“I suspected as much,” he finally sighs.

You’d think he’d rather slaughter us all than get engaged. I choked with horror at the thought.

“Princess? Go and pack your bags. We leave within the hour.”

What?

“Are we leaving? But...where?”

“We have to get married in the presence of King Elendur,” grumbled Dovah, as if this obligation irritated him to no end. He wants to make sure I don’t escape.

If I understood correctly, I was going to Osacan with my father’s murderer, and now my future husband.

Once inside my mother’s apartments, I slowly removed my bonnet.

It was made of thick white fabric and tied at the nape of my neck.

Since childhood, I’d made a habit of wearing one to hide my opulent and abominably curly red hair.

All it took was two tight braids and a lot of pins.

I’d always envied the silky-smooth hair of my two sisters, whose golden colour was reminiscent of ripe wheat.

Why had I inherited this curse of blood-coloured hair?

The worst part had been growing up knowing I was the only one in the whole country with such a hue.

I also knew what was said about me because of it: that I was the devil’s child.

How could this be the case when I had my father’s green eyes and my mother’s nose?

Our nurse had thought it was a spell cast by a witch when my mother was waiting for me, but my parents always refused to believe it.

After all, I was their first born. I was “perfect.”

“Are you alright?”

My mother, Queen Lyra, came forward to take me in her arms.

“Yes.”

My voice was barely audible. My sisters Mérédicia and Bhilène joined us. They were like two drops of water, one an exact reflection of the other, right down to their choice of dress. Only the members of our family could recognize them at a glance without making a mistake. What would become of them?

“Did he harm you?” inquired Mérédicia.

“Have you seen Lord Jonah?” asked Bhilène.

Lord Jonah was our father’s hand of justice, the one who was supposed to protect us from the enemy.

I shook my head gently to indicate that I had not.

I had no idea where he was. I didn’t dare tell them that he was surely dead and that they shouldn’t wait any longer for a possible saviour.

Muvaria’s fate was now sealed. But I had to tell them something else, and fast.

“I...I have something to tell you...”

As if she’d already guessed what I was going to say, our mother clutched the back of the armchair in front of her as I explained the situation in a voice choked with emotion: I was going to have to leave after packing, and worst of all, marry our father’s murderer.

There was no other choice. We owed it to our king, who had defended the lands of Muvaria to the bitter end, but also to our people, who needed the help of the royal family—at least, what was left of it—to heal their wounds.

Mérédicia burst into tears, quickly joined by Bhilène, and my sisters hugged each other in search of comfort. Our mother embraced me again.

“Be brave, my darling. A great trial awaits you and we won’t be able to be at your side to support you. My heart bleeds to lose you, but nobility obliges. We have a responsibility to the people of our kingdom. I’m proud of you,” she finished with a wail.

I nodded, unable to utter a single word. Just as I was about to open the door to go to my rooms and pack my things, a servant appeared, out of breath.

“Lady Ashana,” he began between gasping breaths. “Lord Dovah requests your presence in the king’s study.”