Chapter 1
The sun hung low in the early morning sky, casting warm rays across the royal training field amid the clash of steel.
Anticipation filled the crisp fall air as I stood face-to-face with my trainer, Sir Topher—the most promising young knight in the King’s Guard. Beneath the rising sun, his towering frame cast a shadow that felt as if it would swallow me whole.
Nervously, I shifted my weight, awaiting his next move.
An unwelcome crowd of fellow knights and servants gathered around us, their hushed murmurs of expectations filling my ears. Despite my years of training, no one had granted me a fighting chance on this field.
My throat tightened with suppressed anxiety, though Topher’s equally anxious pacing offered some comfort. His muscular arms and broad shoulders seemed perfectly suited for battle, while onlookers might find my round, stubby figure laughable.
We circled each other, the gravel and mud blending beneath our boots. Even behind his helmet, I could sense his confident grin—likely relishing the prospect of an easy victory before breakfast. The observers held their breath, anticipating the commencement of our spar.
In the blink of an eye, we lunged. Our swords clashed, sparks flying with each strike. Time seemed to stretch as we danced around the field—unequal in skill but matched in determination. Something felt different this morning as we persisted. I felt stronger.
Dodging, parrying, and blocking with grace and precision, I managed to surprise everyone with how long I had already lasted.
Including myself.
Confidence surged with each strike, like a sudden charge fueling my body. Just as I felt the rhythm of the dance, my stomach growled—shattering my concentration in one single rumble.
Warriors shouldn’t allow any distractions, including a hungry stomach.
Frowning, I mentally told it to “shut the hell up”. As I refocused, I had barely enough time to register the large arm aimed at me. Evading Topher’s mighty swing, I dove into the dirt and landed flat on my now-silenced stomach.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he teased, extending a gloved hand toward me. “Give the people what they want, and let’s end this already. Just give up and yield!”
Scoffing, I dodged his assistance, sprung to my feet, and regained my sword.
Topher’s cocky grin faded before he lunged forward. He wore his frustration on his sleeve as his increasingly forceful, and less calculated, series of blows grew sloppier. A small, uncontrollable smile formed on my lips as I took advantage of his carelessness.
Seizing my opportunity, I feinted left, sidestepping his oncoming strike.
Not allowing him the time to counteract, I pushed all my weight forward and connected my boot with his metal chest plate. Fumbling backwards, his large form struggled to find his footing, his sword and behind thudding to the ground in the process.
Gasps from the spectators filled the air as Topher’s blue eyes widened in disbelief. After three years of training, he had underestimated me and now was paying for it.
What a sucker.
Panting but intoxicated by victory, I stood tall, the tip of my sword at his throat. “You were saying, ‘sweetheart?’” I cooed beneath my helmet.
Sitting up, he raised his hands in surrender. “I yield.”
The small crowd erupted in tamed cheers and loud claps. A curse or two was exclaimed, followed by the clinking of coins. Bets must have been made and apparently lost.
Removing my helmet, relief washed over me as the cool morning air met my sweat-covered scalp. My long, curly copper hair tumbled free from the loose bun it had been tied in. The white hair that framed my face immediately clung to my sweaty forehead.
Removing my chest plate, I instantly felt the freedom to breathe.
As the cheers and banter subsided around the field, I took a moment to savor everything. It wasn’t about winning the sparring match, even though that felt fucking incredible. No,it was about shattering the long-held expectations that loomed over my head.
Especially recently.
As the princess and sole heir to the Orphinian crown, I felt the need to prove myself. For years, every morning, I worked with Topher to train my muscles and confidence—recognizing there was more to this than just physical strength. One day, I would be queen, and to me, being queen meant more than sitting by my husband’s side and nodding like a fool.
I wanted to show the kingdom I was just as strong and capable as any man.
Today marked that day.
Still catching his breath, Topher gazed up at me with a hint of pride and admiration. Alongside his role as my trainer, he had been a mentor, a protector, and, more importantly, a friend. Respect was always present between us, but today, it was on an entirely different level.
Removing his helmet, his blond locks clung to his sweaty neck. “Nicely done, Genevieve,” he grumbled, voice still rough from the blow. “I would be lying if I said your skills were a surprise. I must admit, I had been waiting for you to kick my ass.”
He could flatter me all he wanted, but I knew he was impressed with his own skills as a trainer—which, of course, I couldn’t blame him for.
“Well, you did always say patience is a virtue, Sir.” I said with a smirk. “It seems you’ve finally reaped the rewards of waiting.”
He chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Indeed. Your future husband should tread lightly if he finds himself on your bad side. I’ve seen firsthand what you’re capable of today.”
My smile quickly faded at the all-too-relevant meaning in his words. Before I knew it, I was lost in my thoughts. My upcoming arranged marriage, expectations held by my father’s court, and the looming winter that threatened our kingdom every year all crashed into my mind like a wave on the shoreline.
For the past five generations, my kingdom had been entangled in a brutal and bitter war with Valoria, the homeland of the Faeries. Now, newly eighteen, I stood on the brink of a new chaptere—engaged to their crowned prince, Xander.
Despite the betrothal being announced and forged nearly a month ago, I hadn’t met my future husband or anyone from his kingdom. Communication with the enemy across the border was strictly prohibited unless the king granted permission. The only thing I knew of their people was what was told to me. My father’s stories of the horrors they had brought to the war front had done little to paint a favorable picture of my future family.
And it scared me shitless.
The concept of an arranged marriage wasn’t completely foreign to me, but the prospect of marrying into an unknown world was admittedly unsettling.
The name Valoria might conjure images of an otherworldly realm any mortal would love to experience, but in my eyes, it brought a potential death sentence. Just northwest of our territory across a very large border, their land held many secrets.
Faeries, or Fae, possessed powers defying the natural order, making them formidable foes to anyone who dared cross them. The mere fact that we had endured this long was nothing short of a miracle.
My father, King Leonard, had often sat me down and regaled me with tales of past conflicts between kingdoms. The Fae Wars, as they were known throughout our history, left scars that ran deep. Stories of their magic, their beauty, and their thirst for vengeance had haunted my nights as a child.
As an adult, I had come to the unsettling conclusion that those nightmares were more reality than fiction.
As I continued to remove my armor, my mind was still far away from the field my physical body was in. Thoughts swirled about what sort of ruler the crowned prince of Valoria would be.
There were so many times I dared to defy the king and send a messenger raven across the border, but my nerves always got the best of me. Who knew if he would have even received them or written back?
Regardless, I doubted words on parchment would be able to convey the complexities of a person’s character.
Maybe it was for the best.
Clearing my head, I let out a long breath, and turned my attention back to my trainer.
As I extended a hand to signify the end of our match, a smile returned. “Topher, as much as I enjoyed seeing that look of defeat on your face, I can’t help but wonder what Father and Commander Robert might think. Their most promising knight beaten by their princess?” I tisked as my head shook. “Some may think you’re becoming…sloppy.”
Dropping his hand, I gave him a small wink, knowing how to get under his skin. Some court members would faint if they witnessed our exchanges, but this sort of banter was routine for us.
Since my first birthday, Topher, only five years my senior, had been my improvised sworn protector. Whether shielding me from the chaos of visiting royals in the castle or vanquishing imaginary monsters back to the deepest of shadows, he had always been my unwavering guardian.
It helped that his younger sister, Fiona, was my best friend and lady-in-waiting.
Fiona had stepped into the role once held by her mother, Lady Seraphina, who had been my mother, Queen Dawn’s, lady-in-waiting. After my mother passed when I was eight, Fiona naturally transitioned into the role which allowed her mother to retire and return to their home village. The bond between us was unbreakable, and it seemed as if the transition had been written in the stars.
Despite the chaos in the world, the siblings were my sanctuary within the castle’s suffocating confines, my refuge from the cold stone walls that surrounded me. Their unwavering presence was the comfort I needed when I felt most alone.
Which was more than I cared to admit.
After my mother’s passing, I was consumed by darkness. Joy vanished from my life, and time crawled slower than a snail. It was Topher and Fiona who rescued me from that void. Topher’s training sessions became my daily anchor—a means to channel my anger and find purpose. Fiona’s nightly talks offered the companionship I had lost with my mother.
I knew I could never fully repay them, but their friendship had pulled me back from the pits of despair, and for that, I was eternally grateful.
Flashing me a warm smile, he ran a hand through his sweaty, dirty blond hair. Now fully on his feet, his arm draped around my shoulder as we began to stroll back towards the heart of Castle Quinn.
He playfully tugged at a strand of my hair, a mischievous glint shone in his eye, “Your father, dear Princess,” he jokingly declared, “should name me High Commander in replacement of good ole Robert! Considering the daily bull shit I endure with you; I fully believe I’ve more than earned it.”
Raising my brow, I opened my mouth to respond, but a strong voice boomed behind us before I had the chance.
“Is that so?”
Our steps abruptly halted, and I stifled a laugh, instantly recognizing the voice. Biting the inside of my cheek, I tried to maintain my composure.
“Nice one, Commander!” I whispered.
Topher swiftly withdrew his arm from my shoulders, executing a precise about-face to confront the approaching king.
I followed suit, not wanting to miss the show.
“Your G-Grace,” he choked while dropping to one knee.
My father raised a bushy, gray brow, his face stern. “Is this how you talk to your future queen, Sir Topher?”
His blue eyes met my father’s warm brown, a visible swallow tracing down his throat. “No! My words hold no disrespect, Your Grace, I can assure you.”
Peering down at my kneeling trainer, I smirked before meeting my father’s gaze. A wink was his only response before advancing toward Topher.
“Rise, Sir Topher,” he commanded, and the knight complied.
Despite standing at least three inches taller than the king, Topher looked like a child in comparison, his chin raised high, anticipating a reprimand.
Like my mother and Seraphina, our fathers were the closest of friends. Sir Gabriel had served as the king’s Sworn Shield. From the moment he took his oath until his final breath, he was the most feared protector in the realm.
The war with the Fae ultimately claimed his life, but from the stories I had heard, he didn’t go down without a fight.
From a young age, Topher knew he would follow in his father’s footsteps. Even with how far in ranks he had advanced, the pressure of living up to his father’s name still lurked.
He knew it, I knew it, and it seemed like Father did as well.
A smile played beneath the king’s thick beard. “Despite my daughter’s ‘bullshit,’ it takes one hell of a man to endure her every morning. Son, your father never held back when speaking his mind, and I don’t expect you to either.” He rested his tan hand on Topher’s armored shoulder. “Just some advice from one man to the other: look around before opening your mouth. I cannot control what Commander Robert does to his men, and I would rather not have to fish you out of the moat.”
Delivering a playful pat to Topher’s back, I could see the tension escaping his shoulders. “My apologies, Your Grace. The blow from your daughter’s foot this morning must have caused me to forget myself momentarily. It shall not happen again.”
Father chuckled, “That’s what I like to hear, son. Try not to let the embarrassment eat you up too much. After all, she gets her spunk from her ole dad over here.”
He nodded in approval as Father made his way over to me. Although my giggling had subsided, I couldn’t help but grin up at him, and an equally large smile adorned his aged face.
When I extended my arm, he gladly accepted it, and together, we walked back to the castle. Arm-in-arm, we moved to take the long way to enjoy each other’s company. Topher seemed to have understood the unspoken message and quietly departed, granting us some much-needed father-daughter time.
The sun had barely made its way over the tips of the stone towers that covered much of the skyline, but I soaked in every second of it—feeling its warm embrace as much as I felt my father’s arm entangled with mine.
The autumn leaves painted the path in shades of red and gold as we walked toward the castle. Although they would likely fall in the next few weeks, they were still enchanting. Ancient oaks stretched overhead, and birds sang from their branches, filling the air with melodies. An owl hooted in the distance, its white feather’s moving from the corner of my eye into the clear sky.
“I watched you this morning,” Father confessed, pulling me from my observations.
I looked at him in disbelief. He never came out to watch me, and of all days, I happened to win. I attempted to wipe the probably unmistakable shock off my face.
“Really?”
Despite his support for my training, his mornings were typically consumed by daily council meetings. While we occasionally met for breakfast, his mind often seemed preoccupied elsewhere, so conversation was sparse.
“Really, really,” he replied, playfully bumping me as we walked. “I had some free time this morning and thought I’d see how you’ve progressed. I must say, I was not disappointed.”
I glanced down at our synchronized footsteps and blushed. As much as I adored my father, our quality time together had become rare.
As I grew older, our once playful banter had evolved into formal meetings and grand banquets, where prying eyes deemed sticking one’s tongue out at the king tasteless, even if it came from his daughter.
These moments of intimacy with him were cherished, and his praise made my heart soar.
It’s not that I needed validation from my father, but any connection with him was…well, it was something I longed for. I didn’t know the course of my future, and I didn’t know how much longer I would have with him. Experiencing the loss of one parent was already an unbearable heartache, and I couldn’t bear the thought of enduring it again anytime soon.
Time emerged as an unyielding opponent for my father, patiently awaiting the moment when it would inevitably take him away.
While he was no older than forty-eight, his face bore the resemblance of a man well into his later life. From the moment he could wield a sword, he took his place on the battlefield, fighting until he couldn’t physically fight any longer. The horrors of his time at war had caused his hair to gray, his skin to wrinkle, and his tanned hands to callus.
As we strolled, the walls of Castle Quinn embraced us, their towering stones like silent sentinels, bearing witness to the passage of time. Beyond those walls lay a world I rarely ventured into, and my eyes couldn’t help but wander over the landscape I could manage to see. Its exterior stood as a testament to generations of war, a protective cocoon of thick stone, once erected to repel the Fae.
Turrets rose high into the sky, each bearing a storied history of battles fought and victories won. Vines clung to the ancient stones, nature’s attempt to reclaim what had been taken. Moss crept along the edges of the weathered stones, adding a soft green hue to the weathered gray of the walls that kept me from a land I would rule one day.
Lands I longed to explore.
Our strides halted as we approached the gates. The sun cast harsh shadows on my father’s weathered face. A mask descended over his familiar features, revealing the king’s countenance.
“I am aware these past few weeks have not been easy on you.” His gaze became heavy. “I admire how strong you have been throughout all of this. From growing up in the middle of a war to losing your mother, and now the engagement…I did not mean to have so many hardships thrown your way. Regardless, your strength makes my job as a father and as a king a little easier. Tonight, well, tonight will be important for all of us, love. We will be hosting a dinner, where we will sign your betrothal agreement. Then, the engagement celebrations will start tomorrow.”
My throat bobbed as I swallowed, the dread of the inevitable slowly sinking in. “If we’re signing the agreement, that means the Fae royals will be here…”
“Tonight, yes,” he confirmed. “Based on their communications, they will be arriving sometime after sunset. I need you to be ready and in your finest gown by no later than five o’clock. Best behavior tonight, do you understand? No pranks, no discussions of your training, and absolutely no cursing.”
I loathed being serious, especially when the situation was serious enough on its own.
Attempting to lighten the mood, I managed a faint smile. “The cursing might be difficult, but I’ll see what I can manage.”
His stern expression remained unwavering. “Genevieve, please.For me. This alliance is crucial for the future of the kingdom and our crown. We cannot afford any…incidents.”
My eyes studied him, finding nothing to save me from this conversation. Sighing, I bowed my head in a faux curtsy, attempts at humor falling flat.
“No toads in their soup and no cursing. I understand, Father.”
Offering me a faint smile, he turned back toward the castle and continued walking, not once looking back to see if I followed.
I blew a stray piece of white hair out of my face as my arms crossed over my chest.
“And apparently, no fun.”
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