Page 2 of Ravenrose

Home.

A home I’ll likely never see again.

Kane Belmore, Crown Prince of Skye—the Iron Kingdom. He's as beautiful as he is dangerous, with black hair, strikingly pale blue eyes, and a jawline as sharp as the iron-gray cliffs of his homeland.

I’ve met him.

Once.

A few years ago, my father held a ball in Aurielle, Sitara's capital. It was little more than a marketplace disguised as a celebration. With my hand clasped in his, I was paraded through Starlight Castle and presented to what felt like every eligible bachelor the continent had to offer.

Kane was there. Sure, he was handsome, though arrogant. Typical fae male if you ask me. Not much else stood out against his ruthless reputation. Cold and hard, like the Iron Army at his command.

And if the rumors are true, he would be king soon. Gossip about his father’s condition has had the Rose Court in a tizzy for weeks.

The King of Skye is dying. A ridiculous notion I’d initially dismissed as idle court gossip meant to stir fear and speculation. Fae rulers didn’t die—not of illness or old age, anyway. They could be killed, of course; no fae is invincible, but accidents were exceedingly rare. And yet, the whispers have persisted.

Reports claim King Silas no longer appears in public. Too weak, the rumors claim. Impossible. Or… it should be. The tethering had long since blessed the fae crowns with great power, and with it, incredibly long lifespans.

“I don’t know what he’s thinking. Skye is barely an ally. Hells, last sun cycle, we were keeping a vigilant watch on that border.” Riven runs a hand through his dark hair, mussing it up even more than it already was. “Even with this new treaty, I still don’t trust them not to invade—and I especially don’t trust them with my sister.”

I chew my bottom lip, staying quiet. He’s not wrong, but I refuse to go down that road. My newfound apathy is good for something at least. Fearing what’s to come won’t change any of it. My fate is my fate; there’s no escaping it.

It’s not like this is unexpected. I am a princess. An arranged marriage was inevitable, anticipated even, something my father began planning the day I was born. I just hadn’t expected the day would come so soon, and with so little notice or courting.

“You could still run.” Riven drops his voice, leaning in closer. “There’s always Daekhar…”

My stomach knots at the mention. “The untethered kingdom?” I hiss, my gaze pulling south. Rosecliff sits on the very edge of the Sitara-Daekhar border, where the sunlit rolling hills and grassy meadows of the Sun Kingdom give way to the thick, dark forests of Daekhar. “The kingdom of the lightless?” I scoff, wrinkling my nose in disapproval. “I’d sooner walk into the Miselyian Sea than set foot inside that cursed kingdom. They welcomed demons with open arms, and the gods punished them for it.”

A harsh screech cuts through the early morning quiet, drawing my attention up.

Overhead, a massive black bird sits, perched atop a nearby turret. And the way it’s sitting there—so unnaturally still—it could easily be mistaken for a roof ornament meant to scare off the pigeons if I didn’t know better.

Riven’s talking, but his voice trails off on the wind. I’m unable to look away from the dark bird.

A crow… I think? Maybe? The creature’s feathers are as black as coal, absorbing the light of the rising sun, rather than reflecting it.

I tilt my head, studying it. Gods, that thing is enormous.

As if objecting to my attention, the creature releases yet another ear-splitting screech, forcing me to wince.

The bird finally stirs, ruffling and stretching its fine array of feathers, showing off an impressive wingspan before taking to the air.

I track it, and a sharp pang of jealousy rips through me as I watch it fly away, until it disappears into the thick forest below.

“Rowan,” Riven snaps. “Are you even listening?”

“No,” I reply with a sigh, only feeling a little guilty for ignoring him. “But I’m not running to Daekhar,” I say, turning to face him. “I’m not running at all. The treaty has been signed. I will marry Kane. Our union will solidify the still fragile truce between Sitara and Skye.” My jaw tightens as I recite the line my father fed me. “It will strengthen the alliance, and protect our kingdom and our people.” I release a settling breath. “Going through with it—” I swallow, “—is the right thing to do.”

The right thing, maybe, but the words feel wrong coming out of my mouth, and I let them hang between us. My brother’s answering frown says enough.

Rosecliff may be far removed from Sitara’s politics and chaos, but even here, practically banished to the kingdom’s outskirts, we feel it. The wind has shifted. More news arrives every day with talk about another Kovarian raid, skirmishes on the borders, violence from Daekhar—a lawless kingdom—spilling over. And the Miselyian Kingdom to our east? Don’t even get me started.

With enemies all around us, I don’t have to like it, but my duty as the Sitari princess is to Sitara—and its people. After we wed, Kane will provide warriors, weapons, food, and aid for the ravaged border villages that we so desperately need.

I grip the balcony railing a little tighter, staring out at the sun—the orange light of dawn fading away to bright golden rays before Riven sighs, the tension in his shoulders ebbing away as he makes a decision. “Wanna go shoot?” Gold flashes in my twin’s eyes right before his lips curve up in an all-too-familiar mischievous grin.

And despite myself—and my mood—I feel the hint of a smile pull at the corner of my own. “You know that question only ever has one answer.”