_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

Dawn had barely begun to touch the horizon when I slipped from my chambers. The halls were quiet, the echoes of my footsteps swallowed by the vastness of the keep. The tension from the night before still clung to the air, thick and suffocating, as if the palace itself was bracing for the storm to come.

Lucian had agreed. Montreve needed to be dealt with before he could make his next move. But to do that, I needed proof. I needed leverage.

I moved swiftly toward the library, the one place within the palace where whispers turned into records, where past betrayals were written in ink instead of blood. Lillian had informed me that Montreve frequently sent correspondence to his allies in secret, but if the royal scribes had documented any of his dealings, I would find them here.

Chapter 21