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Chapter One
Emilie
My life was over. At least life as I’d known it—the one before my parents traded me like a rare jewel in exchange for the king’s benevolence. I’d known it was coming for a while, but now that the day was here…I wasn’t sure I was ready.
“Hurry up. We’re going to be late.” I heard my mother screeching from beyond the bedroom door, signaling it was time to finish getting ready. It had taken all morning to curl my long, brown hair properly, and for what purpose? As soon as we got on the road, the humidity would leave it frizzy and untamed.
I grabbed a powder compact from the mess of products beside the sink and dabbed it over my face. It would help to absorb any excess sweat during our long trip through the desert.
The dress my mother had picked out was impractical, although I had to admit it was stunning. According to her, the dark green accentuated my golden-brown eyes, but I was afraid the pools of sweat left under the long-sleeved dress would offend my betrothed. Honestly, it was the middle of summer. What was my mother thinking?
Could I have chosen my own dress? Sure. But some battles were not worth fighting when it came to my mother. This was an easy one to let slide. I’d wear her chosen dress, but I was sure she’d still find something to criticize.
It was her greatest talent.
I grabbed the pair of beige flats lying beside my wooden armoire. At least I wasn’t expected to wear heels.
A knock on the door made me turn my head toward two men—burly and muscular, with dark beards and even darker eyes. They headed toward the stack of trunks beside my bed and began to carry them out one by one.
“Did you pack enough?” my mother asked sarcastically as she followed the men into the room.
“I packed everything I own,” I said with a little more attitude than I would’ve normally let slip. If I was being sent off to be married to some man I didn’t know, then I should at least be able to take all of my favorite belongings. There was a strong possibility that I would never lay eyes on this room again. I wasn’t about to leave my treasured jewelry behind. Or the books my grandmother had given me before she passed. It was all coming with me.
“Is that the dress you’re wearing?” she asked, and I almost screamed.
“Yes. It’s the one you picked out a week ago. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh. I suppose it is. It’s a little snug around the hips, honey. I expected it to be more…elegant.”
Thank the gods for the extra layer of powder on my face, because my skin turned a furious shade of red as I listened to her critique my appearance. “I can change if you don’t like it,” I huffed.
“No, no. Your clothes are already packed, and I don’t want to be late. That’ll have to do. Let’s go. Your father is already waiting outside.”
My mother sighed as she ushered me out of the bedroom. I took one last glance back. The room looked rather empty now, only drapes and beige bedding. Discolored squares remained on the walls where I’d removed my personal art collection. I had no idea if there would be space for them in my new quarters, but I’d be damned if I left them behind. No one in this castle appreciated art the way that I did.
In its barren state, I could hardly recognize the room I’d spent the entire twenty years of my life in. My sanctuary and safe place. It no longer belonged to me.
It was strange how a place that held such warm memories could turn so cold and desolate. Even as I walked down the halls of our castle, I could feel the walls closing in on me. It seemed like they were eager to get rid of me, too.
My father stood waiting at the front door, reaching out an arm for me to hold as I walked down the steps. It was early morning and already it was scorching hot. The sun reflected off the tan stone steps and cracked pathways.
“I’m proud of you, Emilie,” my father said quietly, and I suppressed a laugh.
My relationship with my parents had always been contentious. I’d been bred for a reason. For a purpose. My brother, born two years before me, was the heir. The golden child. He would inherit the Kingdom of Dreslen, which was fine with me. I didn’t want it, anyway. Instead, I got to be my parents’ chess piece. I was a pawn in their game for power—given to the kingdom with the most to offer in return.
That kingdom was Osavian. I knew very little about Osavian. I’d only visited a handful of times, but what I did remember was the lovely fields of wildflowers and glistening rivers. A harsh contrast to the arid, brown and beige hellscape that was Dreslen. I wasn’t sad at all to be leaving my homeland. I just wished that I had been asked about what I wanted. I wished that I’d had a say in my future.
Now I was on my way to meet a man named Cyrus Castelli, the King of Osavian. We’d met before, but I’d been so young I could hardly recall. He’d been previously married, but his wife had passed away and my parents, the vultures that they were, swooped in to form an alliance before her body was even in the grave. Since she’d never had children, I knew without my parents’ saying that I’d have to give him an heir.
My life was not my own.
Still, I was determined to make the best of the situation. What my parents didn’t realize was that I had ambitions of my own. As Queen of Osavian, I could do whatever I wanted. I would no longer be under their house or their rules. I could take back my life. I would put up with a man twice my age if it meant I could wield power for my own purposes. I wouldn’t be my parents’ mouthpiece in the neighboring kingdom. They shouldn’t have assumed my loyalty.
The prospect of being queen was exhilarating to me. I’d never considered myself to be hungry for power like my parents, but I knew I had it in me to be a fair and just ruler. Someone the people could look up to and would worship and admire. They’d speak my name with love—write songs about me. I would be remembered long after I was six feet under. That was my dream.
Wasn’t that what everyone wanted? To be loved for all eternity?
I didn’t care if that love didn’t come from a man. I’d accept it from the world instead.
