You must be brave. Your father had this planned long before now. You are in control of your own destiny—fear not of the things that help you. Embrace the darkness within to guide you.
All my heart.
Chapter 11
As my heavy feet move toward my armoire, I shake the feeling of the creature haunting me. Dressing to meet the man I may marry is an important task if you care, and a few gown options come to mind. However, when I open the ornate doors, a new dress hangs among the heavily worn ones.
I lift out the dress, my eyes wide at its beauty. A note falls to the ground:
Go show those men who they should really fear.
Love, Rose.
A grin spreads wide across my face.
The gown is a dark red, infused with black crystals that cascade down the front like rain sliding down glass. The back dips low and hugs my curves, while the front slit nearly exposes the dagger strapped to my thigh. A small train trails behind me as I secure the final piece in place, sweeping my raven hair back. I finish by applying a thin onyx line across my eyes, making my fiery autumn eyes twinkle like a crisp fall evening.
The throne room is quiet as I arrive early, just as my father suggested. He sits alone on the throne while guards and castle staff move about, preparing the final details for the celebration just moments away.
“Don’t you dare disappoint me tonight, Briar,” he mutters, exhaustion lacing every word. “This kingdom is counting on you, and I won’t stand for any errors in the process. We’ve already lost too much for something else to do wrong. Do you understand?” He doesn’t even make eye contact with me as he spits orders.
“Yes, Father, I understand. I’d never disappoint you.” The lie feels great rolling off my tongue. I know he can detect the sarcasm in my tone. “I know how much your image means to you.”
He finally raises his eyes to meet mine, the first time we’ve really looked at each other in years. His green eyes remind me so much of Barlowe, and the pit in my stomach pains me from his stare. He extends his calloused hand in my direction. He holds a crown—my mother’s. It’s a true work of art—solid gold with black crystals swirling around the peaks like diamonds infused with vines begging to touch the sun.
“Briar, I’d like you to wear this tonight.”
I allow myself time to breathe and grab the crown before responding, “Father, I will never work with you or for you ever again. But I will wear this crown if only to signify the change I’ll bring to Daramveer once you are gone.” I smirk, placing the crown on my head, the weight of his stare heavier than the gold.
“I hope you don’t regret those words one day,” he threatens.
We both sit, making ourselves as comfortable as possible. The wide doors across the room swing open, and people start to file in—my heart pounds like thundering footsteps on the hard floor. Residents of Daramveer, along with some unfamiliar faces, fill the space faster than my eyes can adjust. Nerves dig deep into my core, and my hands begin to tremble as hundreds of stares fixate on us. The ceremony won’t start until all the competitors have lined up. My father will makehis announcement, followed by the introduction of all the men competing for my hand.
A member of my father’s court steps forward and nods to signal that it’s time to begin.
My future starts now.
Silence descends upon the crowd as a sense of anticipation flows through the room like an invisible fog. Several men enter the throne room, and I brace myself—I am about to meet the suitors vying for my hand. One by one, they line up in front of the throne—the crowd parting for them as their mentors file in behind. Seven men stand before me; some I recognize. Yet, none of them realize that an eighth contestant will soon be introduced.
Thatcher Madden stands with his father, Elrod, at the front of the line—a wicked grin painted on his face. He wears his finest black armor, and the hilt of his sword shows slightly over his broad shoulders. The arrogance leaking from him makes me gag. He bows in my father’s direction, ignoring me altogether. He rises with a wink, and my father’s voice booms through the crowd, making the first official introduction.
Cromwell Grey, the son of Daramveer’s wealthiest family, stands next in line alongside his father. His wavy black hair falls messily across his green eyes, and he smiles without any kind intentions behind the gesture. The Grey family has numerous royal connections to realms far beyond the reach of this kingdom. Joining forces with this family would greatly benefit my father by establishing connections to other realms. They are exceptionally skilled Shadow Wielders. Cromwell is one of the King of Daramveer’s rising war commanders and is always striving to be at the top. Unsurprisingly, he jumped at this opportunity as soon as the announcement was made.
Graven and Bardot Thornfield stand next in line, with their mother, Calia, close by. Calia was once a mighty queen of afallen kingdom, Cammon, which has never recovered from a war fought long ago. The twins stand taller than most with long white hair half-tied back, their dark eyes revealing no souls behind them. Their reputation as talented Lumor Wielders precedes them, but bitterness seeps from their very beings. The devilish twins and their mother are desperate to reclaim their royal status and rebuild their kingdom. Since her husband passed away a few years ago, Calia has been pursuing my father—there has always been an unusual connection between the two of them that people can’t overlook.
Oak Hombern is one of the few competitors I recognize due to his blond hair and large dark brown eyes. A scruff covers most of his cheeks, and his hair is unkempt. Oak and his father stand before us from the Kingdom of Brinkym. They possess royal looks and status as they are first in line for the throne. During the summers, they often traveled to Daramveer. The Hombern family has grand Lumor powers and vast armies, which likely explains why they appeal to my father.
The room grows colder as Silas Nastronde, prince of the most notorious Kingdom of the Forgotten and Rebels, steps forward with no mentor standing beside him. The Nastronde family has a reputation in the Kingdom of Andorwood that may be even worse than my father’s. Andorwood shelters many criminals and lost noblemen while its people possess dark magic that some may argue surpasses ours. Shadows ripple off his back like black wings as his eyes meet mine, his mouth parting slightly. An intensity shines behind his bright green eyes—a scar running down his brow—causing me to break my stare. He continues to study me like a hunter stalking his prey. Something about him compels me to want to run away from him and toward him at the same time, as if the darkness within me responds to his.
I know him, but how?
Gratitude fills my core as the last competitor steps forward, breaking my gaze from Silas. The Prince of Eddris, Rohhit Harte, moves forward gracefully, a halo of light glowing around his entire body. He bows respectfully in my direction, with his mentor, Nolan, standing beside him. We’ve never met before, but many stories about their family have gone around over the years. They are fair and noble and treat their kingdom as if they are all royals. Lumor wielders have an unmistakable lightness about them. However, his is different, brighter, like electricity moving through the room in his presence. However, there was a dark rumor about his family and some practices that went on at the House of Havengart—but no one has ever been able to confirm nor deny the rituals being performed there as unnatural. Nolan was adopted into the Harte family as a child as a second son of the royal family.
My father turns to me with a nod and stands before the competitors. “Thank you all for coming. We have many things to celebrate tonight. The joining of potential armies for protection to all who claim Daramveer their land and the joining of kingdoms through marriage.”
The crowd claps with excitement as I roll my eyes. My attention snaps to Silas, whose intense stare still burns a hole in my core.
“There will be a series of trials held to prove who is the strongest amongst us and who is worthy of the Princess of Daramveer. These tasks will not be easy, nor will they be for the faint of heart. Danger lurks in every trial, and you are putting your lives on the line to prove your worth.”
