“What are you saying?”
“I’m going to give myself to them, Ilias. It’s the only way. I cannot let this kingdom fall.”
“Kaya.”
She shook her head, a sob choking from her lungs. “I’ll come back to you, Ilias. I’ll come back home the first chance I get. I told you—they’ll never have me. Not entirely.” Pushing up onto the tips of her toes, she kissed him. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, squeezing the bunched cloth right where his heart pounded. “I love you. Forever. And I promise to you, that they will never take me from you. I willneverbear their children, nor will I ever take their name. My name belongs to you, Ilias Dothrae. I am yours—now and forever.”
Ilias nodded, pressing his forehead against hers. “Now and forever, princess.”
?????????
It happened quickly. The Credulan King stormed into Holiadon with an entire army, demanding justice for his critically injured son. Kaya was able to help her parents lead as many fae as possible into the mines that were carved under the mountain—was able to veil the heart of her kingdom with the help of the creatures that lived inside her. She saved them. The Dark Bringer saved them.
There were very few in Holiadon that didn’t make it in time and for that, she tried to feel grateful.
But the feeling did not exist in this scenario. All she felt was guilt and shame. Because she had failed. She hid as much of the city as she could with her shadows, but she could feel her strength fading with each panted breath she drew as she was practically dragged through the streets.
The princess watched her city burn.
They started with the temples and then moved to the libraries. They ripped apart her kingdom until every mile she walked became so heartbreaking that her knees buckled, colliding against the quartz-lined streets.
With hot tears weighing at her swollen eyes, she looked back at the man that stood, shouting orders, among the wreckage.
It had been a quick goodbye—a deep kiss stolen in desperation—before they were ripped away from one another by the Credulan King. Chains wereshackled to her wrists and ankles, but not tight enough to keep her from reaching for the locket that hung around her neck with the hand that bore her mother’s gifted ring.
A promise.
A promise that this terror would end—that the days of war would soon be over and that she could, finally, spend her life wrapped perfectly in her greatest love’s embrace. A promise that she would return to Holiadon.
“Find the sword,” He whispered, “and when the locket, the ring, and the sword of Cadaith’s heart are united… this will all end. All of it.”
It was a shot in the dark, for the Sons of Caddagh had pillaged and destroyed almost everything. They had desecrated these lands to the point that the princess was not sure if the last relic still existed.
But she promised him anyway.
And as the fair-haired king of falsities jerked her to her feet, she let out a soft cry. The man in the distance, with his dark brown hair and eyes the color of the most beautiful green gems, turned to look at her once more.
Her world burned.
Her prince smiled.
Children screamed for their mothers.
She closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek before she was thrown through the swirling golden mass of light behind her.
?????????
A lash to her spine caused her body to lurch. There were no tears in her eyes, nor did she cry out in pain. She stared at the fool before her, eyes narrowed at the stolen crown on his head. His eyes were unforgiving, his lust for power evident in the way he observed her. The moment he threw her body onto the floor, he demanded for her to speak her new name. The onehehad given her. She would not. She would not give him the glorification of going by a name chosen for her—one he expected her to use when she joined the Credulan society. She would pick her own.
“I will ask you again,” He spoke clearly, coldly. “What is your name?”
She unhinged her jaw, face devoid of emotion. “I am Ailikaya Dothrae Aesa, Princess of Holiadon.”
Another lash, skin ripping away from her back as the king stepped forward. “What is your name?” He bellowed.
“Ailikaya—”
Before her name left her mouth, the whip struck her back again. She could feel the burning, feel the hot blood spilling from her skin and pooling into the dress that had been shoved down her torso. She did not fight against her restraints. And each time that the false king demanded her name, she gave it to him—she spoke her name until she hung from those chains with no strength to keep herself upright any longer.
