SapphirePeter


Winters upon winters have drifted by, and still, the North remains without its destined sovereign. One by one, pretenders have fallen, claimed by the death that guards the empty throne. 
As despair consumes the realm - people dying, their purpose withering - a whispered prophecy stirs the ashes — the one they seek walks among the South.

While the Heavens remain without the offer of an heir to the North, a Southern Princess drinks to excess at a Royal Event and exposes royal rot.
She is ordered to be killed, steel drawn... when a certain Prince Commander claims her to be his wife.
Marriage was never her fate. Certainly not to him,  but desperation writes its own vows. There were no promises, no expectations, but love came, slow and certain. 
It seemed the sun had broken through the clouds, but something superiorly vital is then taken from this Princess, and she is sent to the worst of dungeons when her husband is at war. He returns, thinking she left him, and he falls into the deepest of despair.


The Princess’s heart is heavily marked in this strange new world where unfamiliar souls shape her. They teach her, harden her, and rebirth her into something nearly unrecognizable.
She flees with them as a circumstance exposes her to be the ruler they have been in search of.
Through hardship and pain, she ascends—not only to lead the North but to stir the balance of the universe itself.
But at what price? What must be given?
Follow her odyssey - a journey of life, of love, betrayal, revenge, of war and transformation, and of staggering power that shakes worlds.
Her name is Nadezhda. 
Nadezhda means hope. She is our hope.




QUEEN OF THE NORTH (THE WILL OF THE HEAVENS)

I am not a queen because I rule, I rule because I am THE QUEEN. 


Birthed in my heart. Alive in my veins… 


‘‘I must go alone. Dorian and the others shall accompany me,’’ Nadezhda said softly, offering a faint smile to ease her chambermaids’ worried glances. 


‘‘You know well they are counted among Zorgan’s most seasoned men. No harm shall come to me,’’ she assured. 


After the news of Zorgan’s whereabouts reached her, she resolved to depart. She could not fathom when he might return, and thus, this chance- however fleeting- seemed like her only path forward. There had been no deliberation, no weighing of consequence- only the instinctive certainty that she must go. 


She had thought to wait- until the rains ceased totally and warmth returned to the earth in full. But she did not know when or if she would ever receive word of him again. 


FIRST ATTACK