_saintrose

A woman from Hull was never meant to wear a crown. And yet, today, they would place one on her head.

Verona Falkenrath has spent her life among the wild forests and untamed lands of Hull, a province scorned by the noble courts of Praylor. To them, she and her people are nothing more than barbarians. Useful for their resources but unworthy of standing among kings. When she is forced into an arranged marriage with Prince Lucian Velthorne, Verona knows what is expected of her: be silent, be obedient, and be grateful.

But Verona has never known how to kneel.

Lucian never wanted a wife, especially not one from Hull. Cold, calculating, and bred for power, he sees their union as nothing more than a political necessity. She is a means to an end, a bridge to keep Hull under Praylor’s control. But from the moment Verona enters his court, she defies him at every turn. Fierce, untamed, and impossible to ignore.

Yet behind the whispers of their unlikely marriage, something far more dangerous is brewing. A neighboring country has begun sowing rebellion in Hull’s shadows, promising freedom from Praylor’s rule. When Verona uncovers the plot, she faces an impossible choice: stay loyal to her homeland, or betray those who would see it burn.

But Lucian has his own doubts. When the rebellion reaches its peak, can he truly trust the woman he once swore was his enemy?

Bound by duty, divided by war, and drawn together by something neither of them expected, Verona and Lucian must decide. Is their marriage just another political game, or the beginning of a love that could reshape kingdoms?

To Love a Crowned Enemy

<p>The corridors of the keep were quieter than usual, a deceptive silence stretching through the stone walls like a held breath. Shadows pooled in the corners where the torchlight didn't reach, and the air carried a faint chill despite the warmth of the flickering sconces. The events of the previous night had left the court shaken, and though no more accusations had been made, the unease had seeped into the very bones of the castle.</p>

<p>I moved swiftly through the halls, my skirts whispering against the marble floors. The faint scent of melted wax and damp stone clung to the air, a stark contrast to the opulence of the ballroom just hours before. Lucian walked beside me, his steps measured, his face unreadable. But I could sense it—the tension in his frame, the way his fingers twitched at his sides, as if resisting the urge to tighten into fists.</p>

Chapter 18