Poisoned promises
Vivienne had dreaded this moment from the instant the island of Valoria became visible on the horizon—jagged cliffs rising like fangs from the sea, the mist curling around the trees like smoke from a fire long extinguished. The ship rocked as it docked, the wood groaning against the weight of decision. Now, here she was, standing on the polished deck, unable to delay any longer. Ashten, ever patient, stood behind her, helping secure the laces of her corset that she had unsuccessfully tried to tie herself earlier.
“Here,” he said, tugging the final knot snugly. “Ready to go,” he added with that familiar, infuriatingly charming grin of his.
Vivienne forced a smile she didn’t mean, eyes already on the Valorian guard who waited silently at the end of the gangplank, dressed in polished silver armor etched with the crest of a coiled serpent. The message was clear: they were guests, yes—but watched ones.
Ashten’s crew remained aboard the ship, lounging like cats but alert beneath their relaxed postures. This visit wasn’t meant to last longer than a few hours. A day at most. Vivienne hoped it would be less. Much less.
The moment her boots touched the damp stone of the dock, a weight settled on her chest. Each step toward the castle, with the guard leading the way and Ashten strolling beside her, felt heavier than the last. Her stomach twisted in knots she couldn’t untangle. The closer they came to the looming white marble palace, the less she could ignore the truth: she was here to be bartered like grain or gold. To be married. To a man.
The mere thought made her stomach churn. Not because of the man himself—she didn’t even know him yet—but because of what it meant. Marriage meant obedience. Marriage meant becoming a vessel for heirs. It meant losing whatever freedom she still clung to. Vivienne had never fit into the dainty mold her kingdom tried to press her into, and marriage would be the final blow to her identity.
The castle’s interior was grand, with vaulted ceilings and banners in shades of green and gold. Soldiers lined the walls like shadows. Vivienne barely noticed the luxury. She noticed the silence. The calculation.
Waiting at the end of the hall was the Valorian prince.
Prince Aspen.
He was taller than she expected, and younger too, with soft, well-groomed brown hair and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Those eyes, a vivid and unnatural green, reminded her of venomous leaves she’d once seen in Eldoria’s woods—beautiful, but deadly. He gave a nod of courtesy, the kind trained in royal courts.
Vivienne’s heart sank further.
“Please, have a seat, Princess,” King Cassium said, gesturing to one of the two remaining chairs at a massive oak table polished to a mirror shine.
The king was a commanding man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a neatly trimmed brown beard streaked with grey. His presence was warm, almost friendly—but Vivienne had lived among vipers too long to fall for the illusion of kindness in powerful men. She gave a small curtsy and sat where he indicated, Ashten sliding into the seat beside her.
It was subtle—so subtle that most would miss it—but Vivienne caught the brief flicker of a glance between Aspen and Ashten. Quick, intentional. A spark passed between them, something familiar. She didn’t comment. Not yet. But her mind noted it like a blade being unsheathed.
King Cassium began to speak, his tone light but his words weighted. He praised the idea of unity, spoke of the past wars between Valoria and Eldoria as unfortunate but behind them. He spoke of peace like it was a dream nearly within reach—if only their kingdoms could be joined through the sacred bond of marriage.
Vivienne heard none of it as anything but strategy. She knew the script. Her own father used the same words. Peace was power. A royal wedding was a truce sealed in silk and sacrifice. She was the offering.
Vivienne sat still and silent, her fingers clenched in her lap as she stared at the table. If anyone noticed the tension in her jaw, they said nothing.
She would play her part. For now.
But she had no intention of surrendering without a fight.