Chapter 8
On my wedding night, all I could think about was how to negotiate with the King of the North.
He was a fanatic who despised my people to the bone.
My task was to placate him–if not to broker peace, then at least to buy time.
But I never got the chance to speak
What greeted me wasn’t a conversation, but a blade to the heart.
I’d trained with Garrick in my youth. My instincts kicked in fast. I tore off my veil, drew my dagger, and blocked the blow.
“The spoiled little princess from the heartland?”
Kestrel Varyn sneered.
“Not completely useless, then.”
He pressed forward. My dagger flew from my hand. His sword tip kissed my chest, slicing skin–but then paused. He seemed to savor my fear.
Looking at this young warlord cloaked in bloodlust, I suddenly understood why Selene ended her life within a year of arriving
“Our empire sent me here in peace. Why this hostility, Your Majesty?”
He chuckled darkly, tapping my cheek with the flat of his blade.
“We don’t need delicate little flowers like you. Better to end it now than let you suffer later.”
“What’s that civilized term you people use? Ah, ‘husband.”
“How touching. Let me send you on your way properly.” “Wait.”
I grabbed the blade, blood pouring from my palm.
He raised a brow.
My voice trembled, but I forced the words out.
“Garrick Aveline.”
That name made him pause
Kestrel -the fiercest warlord the North had ever seen. A Aveline.
And among the generals of Aurelia, only one ever earned his respect–Garrick
While others turned and fled at the mere sight of Kestrel, Garrick stood his ground and fought him to a draw.
“He married my sister Selene. The woman he loves more th
than anything”
“He’s desperate for a war. Craves the glory. He wants your head as a trophy for her.”
“You think he gave up just because I came here?”
He’s hoping I die out here—so my father can use it as an excuse to crush your barbarian tribes.”
Kestrel’s expression darkened.
No one had ever dared call him a barbarian to his face and lived to tell the tale.
Tilted my chin, baring my throat.
“So go ahead. Kill me. He’ll avenge me soon enough. If you think your victory is guaranteed, then strike.”
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed–and lowered his sword.
“You’ve got more spine than the others. Better than those other princesses we’ve buried.”
He turned and walked away.
Only then did I realize I was drenched in sweat.
I wasn’t the first princess they’d sent here. Not even close.
even crueler—and suffered
Back then, Kestrel wasn’t yet the warlord. Maybe the ones married off into his tribe ended up with someone even crueler far more than I ever would..
And this was just the first day. The rest… would be even harder.
