My body aches all over, but I force myself onto my feet. I must've rested for an hour—maybe two. The sun hasn't reached its peak yet, so it's not noon. I still have time. I need to keep moving. The western border—Velmoria's edge with Carrick—isn't far now. Carrick stood with my father once. If I can reach them, they'll take me in. They'll return me to Saelow.
I break off a piece of the stale bread I managed to bring with me, chewing slowly, just enough to keep my strength. The water in my flask is lukewarm now, but I sip it sparingly, savoring each drop. I can't afford to waste any of it.
My pace is slow, uneven—each step a test of endurance—but I keep moving. Every branch that snaps beneath my feet feels like a warning. Every gust of wind like a whisper: you're not alone.
Then I hear it—hooves pounding against the ground, voices carried by the wind. Men shouting.
Panic seizes me.
I turn and run, limbs screaming in protest. I dart between trees, pushing past underbrush, desperate to disappear. My eyes search for a place to hide, any place.
Then I spot it—a dip in the earth to my left. A hollow, maybe. I veer toward it, but I don't look closely enough.
My foot slips.
It's not a hollow. It's the edge of a cliff.
My hands shoot out, grasping wildly—and catch on something: vines.
I dangle, legs flailing, heart pounding. The ground is far below—jagged rocks waiting like teeth. One vine snaps, then another. I cling to the last one, fingers burning. I close my eyes.
This is it.
Then—suddenly—a hand grabs mine. Strong, firm.
I don't need to look up. I know exactly who it is.
Kaelen.
He pulls me up with brutal efficiency, dragging me back onto solid ground. I collapse, panting, too stunned to speak.
"Tanner! Bring me my horse," Kaelen barks, his voice sharp with fury.
Before I can react, he lifts me like a rag doll and hauls me into the saddle. He mounts behind me, one arm locked around my waist.
The ride back to Aureliath is long and silent. The wind bites at my skin, and the weight of his silence is suffocating. He doesn't speak, doesn't look at me, but his anger radiates from him like heat from a forge.
By the time we arrive, it's well into the night—but it feels far too soon.
Kaelen dismounts first, then helps me down. His hand lingers on my arm a moment too long, gripping my elbow with a warning. I keep my head low, hiding behind the cloak's hood.
I turn to walk toward the manor.
His hand tightens.
Will he throw me into the dungeons?
Then—without a word—he swings me over his shoulder.
"Kaelen!" I shriek, fists pounding against his back. "Put me down! Put me down, now!"
He doesn't flinch. He carries me through the manor like I weigh nothing, ignoring my protests, my fists, my screams. But he doesn't take me to the suite I used to occupy. No—he turns down a different hall. This wing of the manor is grander, and eerily quiet.
He kicks open a pair of large double doors. They crash against the walls, echoing in the silence.
Inside, a massive bed looms at the far end of the room, draped in heavy crimson and black. He strides toward it and throws me onto the mattress like I'm nothing more than a sack of flour.
"My mistake was going easy on you," Kaelen growls. "I won't make that mistake again."
I push myself upright, my voice trembling with rage. "What do you want from me?! What will it take for you to let me go?!"
He leans in, his eyes cold steel. "I'll answer both of those questions tonight. Over dinner."
Before I can respond, he turns toward the door.
"Redna! Malexis!" he shouts.
Two maids enter almost immediately—older, unfamiliar. Where's Friya? I wonder.
"You are to help the Princess," Kaelen says. "But not a word unless I say so." He looks back at me, his voice low, dangerous. "Try anything foolish again—and I will throw you in the dungeons this time I won't hesitate."
Then he's gone.
The door slams shut behind him.
Redna moves to draw a bath while Malexis sets out a towel and fresh clothes—fine silks, far more elegant than necessary.
I sink into the mattress, my limbs heavy with exhaustion, mind spinning.
Why didn't he send me to the dungeons?
Why is he still being lenient?
A man like Kaelen Thorne—ruthless, feared—shouldn't care. And yet...
I'm still here. In a suite, not a cell. With maids and warm clothes and a bed softer than I remembered.
He's a tyrant. But he doesn't act like it. Not always.
And that, more than anything, terrifies me.
My body ached for rest, but my mind refused to let me sleep. So I sat, fully dressed, waiting to be called for dinner.
I had already bathed and put on the dress given to me—a deep blue velvet gown, tighter than I would've liked. Malexis, the maid assigned to me tonight, had gone overboard with my hair. The elaborate updo made me look like I was attending a royal ball, not dining with my captor.
I waited on the small sofa by the door, watching the wall clock as the minutes dragged by. I wished for a book—something to distract me—but all the ones Friya had brought were still in the old room.
Finally, a knock.
"Come in," I said, standing.
A timid maid peeked in. "The Lord Commander wishes you to join him in the dining hall," she murmured, then disappeared before I could even thank her.
So it would be a rotation of maids from now on. I only hoped Kaelen hadn't punished Friya too harshly. Guilt gnawed at me for using her without thinking of the consequences she'd suffer.
I made my way downstairs. Nine guards patrolled the hallways—nine. More than usual.
Kaelen was already seated in his usual place at the head of the long table. This time, though, his gaze lifted to meet mine as I entered. He didn't look away. His eyes drifted slowly from my face down the length of my gown, then back up again.
Heat crept into my cheeks and neck. I felt his stare like a touch, brushing over my skin.
"Serve the princess," he told a footman once I'd taken my seat.
I didn't protest—not tonight. Though my appetite had abandoned me, I forced small bites down. I didn't want to poke the bear… not yet.
Kaelen finished long before I did, but he waited, silent and unreadable.
I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "You said something about answering my questions," I said carefully. The curiosity was there, yes—but fear lingered just behind it.
Kaelen leaned back. "You want to leave? Then I'll let you leave."
A small spark of hope lit within me.
"But," he added, and just like that, the spark dimmed, "I have a condition."
My stomach turned. "Condition? What condition?"
"Harlin!" Kaelen called.
"Lord Commander," he said brightly, then turned to me with an overly enthusiastic bow. "Princess."
Kaelen gave him a nod. Harlin stepped forward and handed me a piece of parchment.
I, Saelow Starwyn, renounce my claim to the Kingdom of Velmoria in exchange for the safe return of my sister, Princess Nyriane...
I stared at it, my breath catching.
"We'll travel to Dresdened Castle tomorrow," Kaelen said, "and summon your brother. He'll have to sign this to get you back."
I blinked. "Have you gone mad?" My voice shook. "You can't do this. We are the royal family of Velmoria. Saelow will never agree to this—I will never agree to this!"
"That depends," Kaelen said calmly, "on what your brother values more. His legacy... or his sister."
I licked my dry lips. A second sheet of parchment in Harlin's hands hasn't gone unnoticed by me. Sweat formed at my temples. I had a feeling I wouldn't like what came next.
"Is there anything else?" I asked.
Kaelen hesitated. He glanced at Harlin. After a pause, he gave a small nod.
Harlin smiled—far too pleased—and handed me the second document.
I felt the ground vanish beneath me as I read the bolded title at the top.
Marriage Contract