Leaving Koetryr.

Nira was being sold off.

Her knees wobbled as she stared at the woman she had called mother all her life. Her mother avoided her gaze as she spoke, her voice steady, as if this was just another conversation.

It didn't make sense.

Nira blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Her mother was still standing there, her face unreadable. She turned to her father, searching for some kind of explanation, but he was silent. They wouldn't even look at her.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears. She tore her eyes away and forced herself to stand.

"That's fine. I'll get ready," she said, though her voice wavered.

This was a death sentence.

She waited. For a laugh. For her mother to tell her it was a cruel joke.

But the silence stretched on, mocking her.

The truth settled in, cold and suffocating. She really was going to marry Elrath.

A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another. Her chest tightened, filling with a slow, simmering hatred.

She turned and fled the room.

The hallways were dark, twisting, unfamiliar despite the years she had spent in the house. She stumbled, bit her lip to keep a whimper from escaping.

Her parents weren't royalty. They weren't part of some great monarchy. She had never once thought she would be sold off for politics.

Two weeks ago, the king had announced that anyone willing to marry Elrath would be fairly compensated. It hadn't made sense then. The king had daughters of his own—why not send one of them? But of course, he wouldn't. He wouldn't sacrifice his own blood.

So instead, he let greed do the work.

Greed in the form of her parents.

Nira had thought her parents were better than that.

She was wrong.

One second, she had been happy, working on her first embroidered dress. The next, she was being sold off in the name of peace.

Damn peace. She thought.

She barely slept that night, her heart pounding too hard, too fast.

The stories about Virun haunted her. The fairy kingdom wasn't some mystical, glittering land like people loved to imagine. The fairies weren't gentle, whimsical creatures. They were dangerous, ruthless, bloodthirsty.

And Elrath was the worst of them.

A warrior. A killer.

And she was being thrown to him like an offering.

---

Morning came too soon.

Nira was summoned to the palace. To be made presentable. To be made worth a penny.

That was how the maid had put it, sneering as she bathed her.

Nira's hands trembled when another girl came to lead her away. This one had kinder eyes, full of pity. It didn't help.

She endured the plucking, the brushing, the painting, the binding. By the time they were done, she barely recognized herself.

Blood-red lips.

That was what her own blood would look like, spilled at Elrath's feet.

When they left, she stared at her reflection, searching for something familiar. But all she saw was a stranger.

Her mind spiraled. Who would miss her?

She used to think of her parents first. Now, the thought of them only burned.

No friends. No family. No Lovers. No enemies.

Her life had been empty. Bland.

She was the perfect sacrifice.

The room darkened. The air turned sharp and cold.

Nira froze.

Something was here. Or—someone?

A presence—unseen but undeniable.

"You're not royal" . A voice chuckled.

She spun, her breath hitching.

"Who's there?" she forced out. Her voice trembled, but she couldn't help it.

No answer. Chills ran down her spine and the hairs on her neck stood. The only place to hide was behind the thick, heavy curtains. She took a hesitant step forward.

A soft laugh. "Do you really think I'd hide behind a curtain?"

Her body went rigid.

She was going to die here. Before she even set foot in Virun.

Her throat tightened. "If you're going to kill me, can you make it quick?"

It was a pathetic request, but she meant it.

She turned back toward the mirror, staring at the unfamiliar girl in the glass.

At least I'll die looking beautiful. She thought.

She yelped.

Two glowing green eyes flickered to life in the reflection.

Her stomach dropped.

A man stepped out of the shadows. Fear hit her, knocking the breath out of her.

Darkness swallowed her whole.

She felt herself slipping into the abyss.

Death, I'm just twenty years old.