The kingdom of Velmoria was once vast and mighty. King Elarion II of House Starwyn ruled with a firm hand. The seventh monarch of Velmoria, he was known as "The Great" or "The Mighty"—but few would call him kind.
While the nobles of Velmoria lived lavishly, surrounded by wealth, jewels, and every luxury imaginable, the poor languished in squalor. Resentment festered as the common folk toiled daily for a single meager meal, while the nobility squandered three months' worth of food in a single ball.
The revolution was not unexpected, but the ferocity with which the lower class rose was shocking. In the blink of an eye, the monarchy crumbled. King Elarion was usurped and killed. His son, Crown Prince Baylor, fled with his wife and two children—Prince Saelow and Princess Nyriane—to a neighboring kingdom.
A few years after the revolution, Baylor crowned himself king. Gathering loyal supporters, he fought back, reclaiming half of his former realm.
For the past fifteen years, Velmoria has been locked in civil war.
The revolutionaries appointed Craven Fenwyn as their king—a battle-hardened warrior who had lost everything, including his heart. His only remaining family was his adopted son, Kaelen Thorne, whom he raised to be as ruthless as himself.
Prince Saelow and Princess Nyriane now reside in Dresdened Castle, their new home since the fall of the old kingdom, while their father wages war on the battlefield.
------------------------------------------
It started out as a peaceful morning... well, as peaceful as it could be at Dresdened Castle. Since the revolution, there had yet to be a true moment of calm—let alone peace—but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Father was away on the battlefield, Saelow was in the kingdom of Bathora gathering support for the war, and I remained behind at Dresdened Castle.
"Princess Nyriane, I've placed your breakfast outside in the garden, as you requested," my maid informed me. I had already taken my morning bath and gotten dressed.
Things had been lonely since Mother died of illness a few years ago, but life went on. The maids offered company when they could, but it was never the same. With my mother gone, my brother constantly away, and my father rarely home, my only true companions had been books. Through them, I had traveled to distant countries, discovered new worlds, and gone on perilous adventures—all from the comfort of my room. In a way, they helped me cope… helped me forget.
I was nearly finished with breakfast when the castle guards came running in.
"Princess! There's no time. You must leave immediately!" Raxyn, the head guard, said with a dire expression.
"What... why?" was all I could manage to say before I heard the words that would turn my world upside down.
"Your father… the king is dead! Kaelen Thorne is on his way to take the castle. We have no time, Princess!"
I had no time... no time to grieve, no time to cry, no time to mourn the loss of my father.
One moment, I was sitting stunned at the breakfast table; the next, I was being pushed into a plain carriage to be taken away. It wasn't until the carriage had exited the castle grounds that a single tear slipped down my cheek. I barely had time to sob before the carriage abruptly stopped.
"Emelia, what's going on?" I asked my maid, my voice shaking.
"Whatever you do, Princess, do not let them know who you are," Emelia whispered.
I wore plain clothes and a brown cloak. Even the carriage was one used by the servants, so as not to arouse suspicion.
Heavy footsteps approached. Suddenly, the door was thrown open with such force that it flew off its hinges. A scream escaped my lips as I locked eyes with a pair of silvery-blue eyes, cold as glaciers. Still in shock, my gaze traveled over his face—one both striking and fearsome. His jaw was sharply cut, shadowed with stubble, and his mouth curled in a faint, mocking smirk. My body trembled. Was this the end of me? Was this the face of my enemy—the last thing I'd see before death?
"Get out," the man commanded in a rough voice.
In any other situation, I'd have been offended. Now, I simply obeyed. Emelia and I stepped out of the carriage, but the moment my feet touched the ground, they turn to putty.
If he had looked intimidating from the doorway, up close he was utterly terrifying. He stood at least a foot taller than me, broad-shouldered, clad in full armor, and radiating an authority that was almost suffocating.
Behind him stood more soldiers in matching armor, dressed in red and black, bearing the sigil of the revolution—the iron fist in chains—The People's Crest. Except his was outlined in gold, which could only mean one thing.
I was face-to-face with Kaelen Thorne.
"Speak," he demanded in a low, commanding voice. "Who are you?"
"Uh… sire, I'm Emelia, and this is Sophia. We're from the nearby village," Emelia replied nervously.
"Nearby village? What brought you to Dresdened Castle?"
"We were looking for work, but they turned us away." I was stunned by how quickly Emelia crafted her reply, while my brain had all but shut down.
"You." Kaelen sneered at me. "Look up at me."
I hadn't realized I'd been staring at the ground. My eyes shot upward in shock. He took a few steps closer, and before I could back away, he seized my chin in a firm grip, forcing me to look at him.
"Sire… please," Emelia began pleading, but he silenced her with a single glare.
He turned back to me. "Who are you again?"
"Soph… Sophia," I stammered.
"Hmm… Sophia," he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue with sickly sweetness. "You seem awfully well-kept for a village girl… Sophia."
"I-I was just looking for work," I said, hoping—praying—that this lie would somehow carry me to safety. That I could run to Saelow, that he would protect me. But the truth was written across my face. Anyone with eyes could see it—my sapphire-green eyes, my dark golden hair. A dead giveaway.
And then it happened. My hood slipped off.
"It seems, Sophia," Kaelen said with a wicked grin, "you've been lying to me."
"Please, sire!" Emelia sobbed, throwing herself to the ground.
"I am not your sire!" he roared.
"Please… please…" she kept repeating, broken and desperate.
And in that moment, I knew. Pleading wouldn't work—not with him. But there was no reason for Emelia to suffer because of me.
"Let my maid go," I said, with more conviction than I realized I had. "It's me you want."