The morning of Seraphina's departure arrived beneath a sky veiled in gray clouds.
The palace courtyard, once filled with cheerful laughter, had become eerily silent. Rows of soldiers stood at attention while servants bowed their heads, unable to hide their sorrow.
A magnificent carriage, decorated in gold and white, waited before the palace gates.
It looked less like a wedding carriage...
...and more like a hearse.
Seraphina stepped out of the palace wearing a sapphire-blue traveling gown beneath a white cloak embroidered with the Ashford royal crest. She held her head high, refusing to let anyone see the fear threatening to consume her.
Her father approached first.
King Alaric looked as though he had aged ten years overnight.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, placing a trembling hand on her shoulder.
She smiled sadly.
"If my sacrifice saves our people, then I have no regrets."
Those words only deepened the guilt in his eyes.
Queen Elowen rushed forward, embracing her daughter tightly.
"My precious child... please come back to me."
Seraphina closed her eyes.
"I'll try, Mother."
But both of them knew the truth.
No bride had ever returned from Blackthorn Kingdom.
---
The journey north took several days.
The farther they traveled, the colder the world became.
Lush green fields gave way to frozen forests. Crystal-clear rivers disappeared beneath thick sheets of ice, and snow blanketed the mountains like a white shroud.
Even the birds seemed to avoid the road leading to the Cursed Kingdom.
Inside the carriage, Mira shivered.
"I don't like this place."
Seraphina pulled back the curtain.
Towering black mountains stretched toward the heavens, their peaks hidden by swirling mist.
"It feels..." Mira whispered.
"Cursed."
Before Seraphina could answer, the carriage lurched to a halt.
The captain of the royal guards rode forward.
"Your Highness, stay inside."
The sound of clashing steel echoed outside.
Then came screams.
Seraphina's heart raced.
"What happened?"
No one answered.
The carriage door flew open.
A wounded soldier stumbled backward before collapsing into the snow.
An arrow protruded from his chest.
"Bandits!" someone shouted.
"They're attacking the princess!"
Chaos erupted.
Masked riders charged from the forest, their swords flashing beneath the pale winter sun.
The Ashford soldiers fought bravely, but the attackers seemed strangely prepared.
"They're aiming for the carriage!"
One bandit leaped onto the roof.
Mira screamed.
The man raised his sword—
Then froze.
A terrifying pressure swept across the battlefield.
The air itself seemed to grow heavy.
A chilling wind howled through the forest.
One by one, every horse panicked.
The masked riders looked toward the distant hill.
A lone rider dressed entirely in black sat atop a massive midnight stallion.
His silver eyes glowed like moonlight.
No crown rested upon his head.
Yet every person present instinctively knew who he was.
King Lucien Draven.
The Cursed King.
He said nothing.
He simply drew the black sword strapped to his side.
Dark mist coiled around the blade.
The bandits turned to flee.
Too late.
Within moments, the battlefield fell silent.
Not a single attacker remained standing.
Seraphina watched through the carriage window, unable to tear her eyes away from the mysterious king.
He hadn't spoken a single word.
He hadn't even looked in her direction.
Yet his mere presence had ended the battle.
As the snow settled around him, Lucien slowly turned his horse toward the carriage.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
The carriage door opened once more.
He stood outside, tall and imposing, his black cloak rippling in the icy wind.
For the first time, Seraphina found herself face-to-face with the man the entire continent feared.
His expression was unreadable.
His silver eyes met hers for a brief moment before he spoke in a deep, calm voice.
"Are you hurt?"
Seraphina blinked.
That wasn't the question she had expected from a monster.
Before she could answer, Lucien's gaze shifted to the lifeless bodies scattered across the snow.
His jaw tightened.
"They found you sooner than I feared."
He looked back at her.
"They don't want you to become my queen."
The words hung in the frozen air.
Seraphina's pulse quickened.
Who were they?
And why would anyone risk starting a war just to stop their marriage?