Run!

A cold wind swept through the grand hall, carrying an unnatural stillness, a silence that made the guards shift uncomfortably.

Queen Naomi straightened on her throne, fingers pressing into the carved armrests. Something was wrong.

And then, he entered.

Xavier.

The Celestial Prince.

He moved without sound, without effort, yet every step he took commanded the space around him. The air thickened, heavy with something unseen, something divine.

Golden hair, streaked with pale starlight, flowed down his back, and his golden eyes—no, not gold, something brighter, something otherworldly—pierced through the room like a blade through silk.

He was beautiful. Unreachable. Cold.

And he was not pleased.

The moment those celestial eyes landed on her, Naomi knew she was in trouble.

He came to a slow halt before her throne, hands clasped behind his back, the very image of patience.

A patience that did not exist.

"You are late," Naomi said, forcing a calm smile. "The wedding was days ago, Prince Xavier."

The words had barely left her lips before his head tilted, gaze turning sharper.

"Queen Naomi," His voice was smooth, regal—but laced with quiet menace. A lazy smile crept on his face.

"I have not come for excuses."

Naomi's smile faltered.

"I came for my bride."

The words rang across the chamber.

The courtiers stiffened.

The air thinned.

Naomi's nails pressed into her throne.

She had expected this. Expected his anger. But something about his tone… something about the way he looked at her made her stomach coil.

She inhaled slowly. "I regret to inform you, Your Highness, but… there was an unfortunate mishap."

Xavier did not blink.

She licked her lips, choosing her words carefully. "Ariel—tricked us all. She deceived the kingdom. She was never meant to—"

"A problem of your own making," he said flatly.

Naomi's throat tightened.

Xavier took another step forward.

The guards stiffened, hands tightening over their swords.

Naomi forced herself to keep her composure. "Yes, but as Queen of Valyria, I take full responsibility for this mistake. And I assure you, I will make it right."

Xavier studied her.

Silent. Unreadable. Like a god passing judgment.

"Then bring me my bride."

Naomi hesitated.

This was the moment she had dreaded.

She exhaled, carefully lowering her voice. "There is… a small complication, Your Highness."

Xavier waited.

Naomi chose her next words like a woman treading a battlefield of glass.

"The rightful bride, Bianca… was given to another."

A silence so thick, so absolute, it swallowed the air.

And then—the world shifted.

Not physically. Not visibly. But something in the air cracked.

The weight of celestial power pressed down on the room, invisible but suffocating.

Xavier's expression did not change.

"Given?"

His voice was soft. Almost… indifferent.

Naomi swallowed. "She—she was married to the Duke of Ashthorne. But, Your Highness, I assure you, this is nothing that cannot be undone."

The prince's eyes gleamed dangerously.

"Undo it, then."

Naomi nearly sighed in relief.

"Of course. I will—"

"No."

Her breath caught.

The single word shattered the fragile sense of control she had been holding onto.

Xavier took another slow step forward.

And this time, the very walls of the throne room seemed to tremble.

"I do not take leftovers."

The air snapped.

The pressure of his presence pressed into her like the weight of the heavens themselves.

Naomi struggled to keep her breathing even.

This was worse than she had expected.

Much worse.

"You must understand," she said carefully, "this is simply a misunderstanding. There must have been—"

Xavier tilted his head.

And then—he pulled something from his robes.

A single, folded letter.

He did not look at it. He simply lifted it between two fingers.

One of his disciples—his senior disciple, in white and gold—stepped forward, taking it. He unfolded the letter and began to read aloud.

"To His Highness, the Celestial Prince,"

"It is with great regret that we must inform you that the wedding must be postponed.

The bride-to-be, Bianca has fallen ill and requires time to recover.

The ceremony will be held one week from now.

Signed—The Regent of White Raven."

A deadly silence filled the room.

Naomi's blood turned to ice.

She had never written that letter.

And Austin would never dare to send such a thing.

Slowly, carefully, she lifted her eyes to meet the prince's.

"Your Highness," she said, voice measured, "this… was never sent by me."

Xavier said nothing.

"I would never delay such an important event," she continued, struggling to keep her tone even. "And I can assure you that my brother did not send this either."

Xavier's eyes remained unreadable.

She could see the thoughts forming behind them. The calculations.

She needed to fix this.

"Please, allow me time to investigate this matter," she urged. "If you would only give me a few days—"

"You have until sunrise," he cut in, final. Absolute.

Naomi froze.

Xavier's voice was calm. Too calm.

"If I leave Valyria without a bride…" He tilted his head slightly. "Then your kingdom will owe me a debt."

A pause.

And then—a quiet smile, sharp and cruel.

"And I always collect."

The unspoken threat hung in the air like a blade.

Naomi exhaled slowly, her mind racing.

She had no choice.

"Very well," she murmured. "By sunrise, you will have your bride."

Xavier held her gaze for a beat longer.

Then—he turned, his celestial robes sweeping across the marble floor.

And just like that, he left.

The throne room remained cold long after he was gone.

— — — — — —

The carriage smelled of damp wood and old velvet.

Bianca sat stiffly inside, her fingers curled beneath the heavy cloak covering her face.

She had barely spoken since they left the White Raven borders, and even now, her heart drummed wildly in her chest.

Her uncle, Regent Austin, sat across from her, his face grim under the dim lantern's glow.

He had been the one to bring her the news. Queen Naomi was smuggling her into Valyria, to the Celestial Prince, to be his bride.

Austin shifted. "We'll reach the border soon. Once we cross into Valyria, the Celestial Prince will take you, and you'll never have to step foot in White Raven again."

Her last chance.

Bianca should have been thrilled. Should have felt victorious.

But all she felt was dread.

She kept her face hidden, even from Austin.

If he saw what had become of her beauty, he might change his mind. The milk baths that once kept her flawless were gone.

Without them, her skin had dulled, and the soft glow that made her look ethereal had faded.

This had to work. She had to reach Valyria.

Then, she could fix everything.

Austin shifted. "We'll reach the border soon. Once we cross into Valyria, the Celestial Prince will take you, and you'll never have to step foot in White Raven again."

Bianca swallowed.

Yes. That was what she wanted.

Wasn't it?

The carriage wheels creaked as they rolled over uneven ground.

Outside, the wind howled, rustling through the trees that lined the narrow road. The path ahead was pitch-black, barely illuminated by the lanterns on their escort's horses.

The horses shrieked.

The carriage lurched violently to the side.

Bianca slammed into the wooden panel, her breath choking in her throat.

Shouts rang out. The heavy clang of steel on steel. The sickening crunch of bodies hitting the ground.

Austin was already reaching for his sword.

Bianca's blood turned to ice.

The carriage door was ripped open.

Figures in black surged forward, their faces concealed behind dark masks. Shadows with blades.

Austin barely had time to react before one of them lunged.

Bianca screamed as steel met steel, the force of the blow knocking Austin against the carriage.

More figures swarmed around them.

The guards barely lasted seconds before their bodies crumpled into the dirt, lifeless.

Bianca's breath came in frantic gasps.

They were outnumbered. Trapped.

One of the masked figures grabbed her wrist.

"No—let go of me!" She struggled, but her strength was nothing against their grip.

She gasped, struggling, but a blade was pressed to her throat.

"You scream, you die."

The voice was cold, impassive.

Bianca's breath hitched, fear gripping her bones.

Austin roared, slashing at them, but there were too many. A blade sliced across his shoulder. He staggered.

They were going to die.

Then—

A horn sounded in the distance.

The masked figures froze.

For a brief second, Bianca swore she saw hesitation in their stance. Then, just as quickly as they had come, they retreated, vanishing into the night like wraiths.

Panting, Bianca collapsed against the carriage door.

Austin was breathing hard, pressing a hand against his bleeding shoulder. "We have to move. Now."

Bianca's legs barely held her up as he pulled her forward. The horses were gone, the guards were dead, and the road ahead was nothing but an empty stretch of darkness.

"The bridge," Austin muttered. "We'll cross it and lose them in the Valyrian forests."

Bianca clung to his arm as they stumbled forward, her vision blurring. Blood soaked through Austin's sleeve, but he didn't slow down.

The bridge loomed ahead—an old, narrow crossing over a deep ravine.

They were so close.

But then—

A thunderous crack split the air.

Bianca's heart lurched as the bridge gave way, the wooden planks collapsing into the abyss below.

Their only escape—gone.

She turned to Austin, horror twisting her features. "What now?"

Austin's jaw clenched. "We run."