đ Chapter 1: The Timid Bride
The day Aveline was sold, it rained.
Not the gentle kind that kissed roses or danced on rooftops. No, this storm howled like a warning, tearing through the trees and lashing against the castle walls. The skies mourned louder than she ever could.
She stood at the edge of her uncle's courtyard, soaked through her thin shawl, watching the black carriage rumble toward them like a monster on wheels. The horses snorted steam, their eyes wild and red-rimmed from the cold. Aveline wanted to run, but her feet were planted like they'd grown roots in the muddy ground.
"Stand straight," her uncle hissed, his fingers digging into her arm. "A prince doesn't want a hunchback. We're already risking our heads offering him a girl like you."
A girl like her.
Quiet. Frail. Forgotten.
She was not the type men courted or kingdoms sought after. She was the type fathers traded for grain. The type mothers taught to stay silent, to not be noticed.
But today, she would be noticed. By him.
Prince Kael of Viremont. The northern beast. A man whose legend was soaked in blood and war. They said he crushed rebellions with his bare hands. That he once killed a traitor with nothing but a glare. That he ruled from a throne of bone and frozen steel.
And he needed a bride.
Not for love. Not even for pleasure. For control. For alliance. For conquest.
Aveline was the price her family offered in desperation.
When the carriage stopped, the door swung open. Out stepped a man cloaked in black and silver, with a hood low over his eyes. He didn't speak. Just motioned toward her.
"Go," her uncle snapped, pushing her forward like cattle.
Her feet carried her because they had to. Into the carriage. Into the unknown. She didn't cry. Not because she wasn't afraid, but because she knew even her tears were not her own anymore.
---
The castle of Viremont was nothing like she imagined. It wasn't just cold â it was lifeless. Towering stone walls wrapped the entire fortress like a prison. The guards didn't speak. The servants didn't look her in the eye.
She was led through dark corridors, the only sound her footsteps echoing against the icy floor. No one explained anything. No one told her where she was going.
Finally, a grand door opened to reveal a chamber lit by torches and a single throne carved from onyx and bone.
There he sat.
Prince Kael.
He was taller than she imagined, broader too. His armor wasn't polishedâit was scarred, like a man who didn't care for appearances, only results. His hair was raven black, pulled back at the nape. His eyes⌠they weren't brown. They weren't blue. They were a shade of cold steel that made her forget how to breathe.
He rose, not like a man greeting a guest, but like a predator sizing up prey.
She curtsied automatically, trying not to shake.
He walked toward her slowly, each step echoing louder than the last. When he reached her, he said nothing. Just tilted her chin up with a gloved hand and studied her face in the firelight.
"You look like you'll break," he said quietly, almost amused.
She opened her mouth, unsure where the words came from. "I won't."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "We'll see."
He turned away without another word, motioning to a maid. "Take her to her quarters. Lock the door."
Aveline's heart dropped. Locked?
She didn't dare ask why.
---
Her room was not a room. It was a cell dressed in silk. No windows. One bed. A locked door.
She sat on the edge of the mattress, her fingers trembling as she reached for the collar of her gown. She didn't know what was expected. Would he come to her tonight? Would he take what was now rightfully his?
Hours passed.
He never came.
But sleep did not come either. Her thoughts twisted and turned like the storm outside.
She wasn't just married off. She was claimed. And yet⌠untouched.
Maybe that was worse.
Because at least a touch would confirm she still existed.
The next morning, the door opened. A servant brought food but didn't speak. No one told her what her duties were. What her future would be.
She was nothing here.
Nothing but his.
As she stared at the untouched meal, Aveline whispered into the emptiness, "I won't break."
The walls didn't answer. But far beyond, in the throne room where he sat in silence, Kael's eyes lifted â and for reasons he couldn't explain, he smiled.
---
Later that afternoon, she was summoned.
Not by words, but by the sound of boots approaching her door. The maid returned, not with food this time, but with a velvet cloak and a single command: "Dress. The prince wants to see you."
Her pulse quickened. Was this the moment he would truly claim her? Or test her?
The cloak weighed heavy on her shoulders, almost ceremonial. She followed in silence, down corridors she hadn't yet memorized. Servants stepped aside as she passed. Some bowed. Some merely stared, like watching a lamb headed to the lion's den.
When the doors opened again, he was waiting â standing before a long window that overlooked the frozen courtyard.
He didn't turn around.
"Come closer," he said, voice low and unreadable.
She obeyed.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "You've eaten?"
"I wasn't hungry."
"Then you're foolish," he said. "Or stubborn."
"Maybe both," she answered.
That made him turn fully. Their eyes met again. This time, he did not smirk.
He stepped closer, just enough for her to feel his breath against her face. "Most women would tremble. Cry. Beg. But you⌠you speak like you want something."
She swallowed. "I want to understand what I am to you."
"A possession," he said bluntly. "A symbol. A warning. Pick one."
Her lips parted. But she didn't speak. Because part of her feared the truth. And another part refused to believe that was all she was.
"I see," she whispered.
Kael reached forward, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face. His touch was colder than ice, but for one brief second, it lingered.
And that second felt like thunder beneath her skin.
"You will learn your place here," he said.
"But I won't be silent in it," she replied.
This time, he didn't smile.
But he also didn't walk away.
---