Chapter 2

The corridors of Velthorne Keep were eerily silent at this hour, save for the soft echo of my footsteps. The meeting with King Aldric had ended, and though I had held my ground, I could still feel the weight of his words pressing against my thoughts. The path ahead would not be easy.

Two guards flanked me as I was escorted back toward the main wing of the palace. Despite their rigid postures and trained indifference, I could sense their scrutiny. They, like the rest of Praylor's nobility, saw me as an outsider—an inconvenience at best, an enemy at worst.

When we reached a set of massive wooden doors, one of the guards stepped forward, pulling them open. Inside, candlelight flickered against dark stone walls, illuminating a lavishly furnished chamber. My chamber. The bed was impossibly large, draped in deep crimson, matching the banners that adorned the walls. A small fire crackled in the hearth, but the warmth did little to chase away the cold unease settling in my bones.

The doors shut behind me, leaving me alone in the vast space. I exhaled slowly, running a hand along the embroidery of my gown, grounding myself in the sensation. This was my life now. A foreign kingdom, a cold betrothed, and a court waiting for me to fail.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I turned just as it swung open, revealing Lucian Velthorne standing in the doorway, his presence filling the space like an unspoken command. He was still dressed in the dark ceremonial coat from earlier, the golden embroidery catching the firelight. His silver-streaked hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run a hand through it one too many times.

"You should get some rest," he said, stepping inside without invitation.

I arched a brow. "Did you come all this way to ensure I was tucked in properly?"

A flicker of amusement passed through his features before he exhaled sharply. "I came to discuss expectations."

I folded my arms. "Of course you did."

Lucian ignored my dry tone and moved further into the room. "This marriage must be seen as a display of unity. Whatever personal grievances you have, you will not undermine what has been set in motion."

I tilted my head. "And what of your grievances, Your Highness? Will you pretend you do not resent this arrangement as much as I?"

His jaw tightened, but his expression remained composed. "Resentment is irrelevant. What matters is control. The court will watch your every move, waiting for a misstep. If you give them one, they will use it against you."

I met his gaze evenly. "I have no intention of making this easy for them."

His lips quirked slightly. "Good. Then you understand."

I took a step closer, closing the space between us. "And what of us? Are we to be partners in this charade, or merely two people forced to occupy the same space?"

Lucian studied me for a long moment. "That depends entirely on you."

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down my spine. He was not giving me the illusion of choice—he was making it clear that my decisions, my actions, would determine how this union unfolded.

I exhaled slowly. "Then I suppose we shall see."

Lucian inclined his head slightly, as if in acknowledgment. "The wedding is in two weeks. You will be expected to attend council meetings before then. Be prepared."

And just like that, he turned and left, the door closing softly behind him.

I let out a slow breath, turning back toward the fire. The flickering flames cast shadows along the walls, stretching and shifting like specters of the past.

Two weeks. That was all the time I had to learn the rules of this game. To decide where I stood in a kingdom that did not want me.

And to ensure that when I played, I did not lose.

The following morning, I rose before dawn, unwilling to let my first full day in Praylor slip away in restless sleep. I dressed quickly in a gown of deep emerald, one of the few garments I had brought from Hull, its fabric softer than the leathers I was accustomed to but no less a statement.

A soft knock sounded at the door before a young maid entered, her head bowed. "My lady, the King has requested your presence in the council chamber after the morning meal."

I nodded, dismissing her with a polite thanks before turning toward the tall window that overlooked the city beyond the palace walls. The view was breathtaking—stone streets lined with merchant stalls, Praylor's people already bustling about their day. Beyond them, the towering spires of the kingdom's temples stood proud against the early morning sky.

A sudden pang of homesickness struck me. Hull's landscape was untamed, rolling green hills stretching endlessly beneath open skies. The air smelled of pine and earth, not of perfume and gold. My people would already be tending to the fields, preparing for the coming winter.

I pushed the thought aside. I had made my choice. Now, I had to survive it.

The council chamber was a grand room, lined with high windows and filled with men who did not bother to hide their scrutiny as I entered. Lucian was already seated at his father's right, his face impassive as he observed my approach. I ignored the whispers that rippled through the room and took my place beside him.

King Aldric spoke first. "Lady Verona, you will attend these meetings as an observer for now. But soon, you will be expected to participate."

I met his gaze. "I would not have it any other way."

A few of the council members exchanged glances, no doubt expecting me to sit silently and listen. They would soon learn that I had no intention of fading into the background.

Lucian leaned slightly toward me, his voice just low enough for only me to hear. "Careful. The more you speak, the more they will try to silence you."

I smirked. "Let them try."

His expression did not change, but I caught the slight twitch at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back to the discussion.

I did not miss the way his gaze lingered on me just a moment longer than necessary.

Let the court whisper. Let them doubt. I would prove them wrong.

One way or another, they would remember my name.