_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

Morning light spilled through the high-arched windows of Velthorne Keep, gilding the halls in deceptive warmth. The golden glow softened the edges of stone and steel, painting a picture of serenity that did not exist.

No amount of sunlight could thaw the ice creeping through my veins.

The revelation lingered in my mind, a slow-burning fuse. Lillian had risked everything to bring me this information, and now the weight of it pressed against my ribs. If the Queen had truly been orchestrating the whispers surrounding me, then I was more vulnerable than I had ever realized.

I needed to be careful. I needed to be smart.

Julian paced the length of my chamber, his usual smirk absent. He was rarely ever still, but this was different. He wasn't moving out of impatience. He was thinking, calculating.

"If my mother is involved in this," he muttered, "then we're all playing a much deadlier game than we thought."

Chapter 22