Page 14 of Ravenrose

After all, what were all those finishing lessons for? It’s my duty.

The king has three children: an heir, a spare, and a daughter to sell. Now that I am of age, my value has never been higher.

But Kane Belmore? I guess I just never expected it would be him. Like Fel, he is the heir to his own throne and has prepared diligently for the crown he will soon inherit, if the rumors circulating the court are true.

From what I remember of the days he came to court, he was handsome and polite. Everything a fae prince should be. Fel and Riven know him better than I do, of course, having spent more time together. They were permitted to accompany Father on the rare royal visit outside of Sitara, while I was left at home. And while they said they found him to be rather arrogant at times, neither could come up with anything especially heinous that might outright disqualify him from marrying their sister.

Though, neither of them are happy about it; the alliance with Skye is still too new.

But they did say Kane has a rather well-known reputation as a playboy. Reportedly showing up to events and engagements with a different female on his arm each time. He certainly didn’t strike me as the type who wanted to settle down. But then again, neither am I. Perhaps the two of us could find common ground there.

Plus, gossip and rumors are just that. And gods, the rumors my father spun about me and my brothers… they are far from the truth. I can only hope that holds true for my soon-to-be playboy husband as well.

He will be the next king of Skye. A mountainous kingdom to our southeast, well known for its stone and ironwork, as well as its formidable and rather ruthless army. A kingdom I’ll one day be queen of. The thought makes my stomach drop, and for a moment, I feel dizzy, stopping to balance myself on a step before proceeding further.

By the light… Queen of Skye… My jaw aches as I grind my teeth once more, thinking about the crown and all the scrutiny and expectations that come with it.

My boot catches on a loose nail, but I’m able to catch both myself and my scream by grabbing hold of a metal sconce nailed into the wall next to me. My feet only slide down a few steps, just barely avoiding disaster. Breathing hard, I let myself recover for a moment before pressing on.

None of it appeals to me. I can’t quite shake the feeling that this is the end. My ladies-in-waiting and other noblewomen can't stop congratulating me. They found me first thing this morning, gushing and carrying on about my “happily ever after.”

But to me… it doesn’t feel that way. Happily ever after? Happy? Maybe—hopefully, but it most certainly is an ending.

That’s all I’ll ever be. Once I marry Kane, it’s all over—not that it ever started. It’s not like I’ve seen much more of the world from behind the walls of Rosecliff, but… from that day on, that’s all I’ll ever be. His wife.

I already know how every moment of my life will play out. The story—my story— Someone else already has it written.

And if I'm being honest, it’s not one I want to read.

My thoughts quicken my pace, as if I can run from destiny. For Sitara, I remind myself, forcing the rising rebellious thoughts from my mind.

If not Kane, it would just be someone else. This is my destiny. I was born to be sold. My entire existence hinges upon a pretty smile and a hand worth its weight in gold. That’s who I am and—looking forward—who I’ll ever be.

I sigh, drawing myself up and dusting off my skirts when I finally reach the end of the spiral staircase. It takes a minute to catch my breath. I swear Alita tied my corset extra tight this morning on purpose. My lungs are screaming.

Looking up, I find myself faced with yet another heavy wooden door, nestled deep below the stone castle above. This one, however, is unlocked and swings open easily, revealing the subject of the one quiet rebellion I’ve allowed myself this morning.

A few feet away, behind thick iron bars, Theo lounges against the filthy stone wall as though he occupies a throne rather than a prison cell. One knee is drawn up to his chest, an arm draped lazily across it, while his other leg stretches through the moldy hay littering the dirt floor. As I emerge from the unassuming door at the far end of the dungeons, he lets out a low whistle, his gaze dragging over me in a slow, deliberate appraisal.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Princess of the Rose Court herself.” His grin widens. “To what do I owe the honor of being graced with your royal presence in this charming corner of the kingdom?”

He sweeps his arms wide, presenting the filthy, cramped cell as though it were a lavish suite rather than a dungeon. The thick iron bars between us do little to diminish the mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Come to play?”

Chapter 7

ROWAN

My eyes trail over Theo’s suggestively arched brow as he awaits an answer to his question. That same familiar laughing expression remains on his face, but he can’t quite hide the weariness around his eyes. Or the streaks of dried blood running down from his temple, and his pale, cracked lips…

I allow my lips to quirk up in a small smile and watch as his eyes widen in surprise. He likely had expected more of a prudish response. I close the gap between us with slow, deliberate steps, holding his gaze as I move.

“Well, that depends.” I drop my eyes, noting he’s wearing just a tunic and breeches. The armour he was wearing previously sits in a heap just outside the cell. Although covered in dirt and straw, I can tell the tunic Theo wears is newer. The stitching is fine, especially along the blue and silver crest of the Kingdom of Kovaria—a sword with white wings— that sits just over his heart. “What game did you have in mind, my lord?” I mimic his suggestive tone, while batting my eyes a bit too obviously, letting the address hang between us.

The amusement on Theo’s face fades slightly, and he appraises me again, albeit more seriously this time.

“So formal, Your Highness.” I hear laughter in his tone, and he flashes me a bright smile, the kind of smile one shouldn’t find in the dingy, dark, forsaken cells of the castle’s dungeons. The ones all the way in the back—cells reserved for the condemned. Rising to his feet, Theo dusts off some dirt and loose hay from his breeches. “I am, but only a humble scout.”