THE RAVEN KING’S BRIDE

CHAPTER ONE 

“The Raven King…” Liana gasped softly.

Her heart raced as she stared at the whiteboard. The words felt like music to her ears. This was it, the topic she’d been waiting for all semester. The infamous king who ruled with ravens circling his throne, the one whispered about in bedtime stories and blood-soaked legends.

The lecturer finally turned to face the class. “When did this historical story take place?”

Before he even finished, Liana’s hand shot up. Her pulse fluttered in excitement. She wasn’t the loud type. In fact, most people barely noticed her, but this….this was her moment.

“1438 AE Earldom,” she said with confidence, her voice clear and bright.

A hush fell over the room before the lecturer smiled approvingly. “Very correct.”

Liana leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “It was recorded by Monk Alphonso, he's the only true witness to the story.”

“Excellent,” the lecturer replied, pleased. “The Raven King was known as one of the most brutal rulers in history, feared for his tyranny and endless executions. It’s said he burned down the world after a great betrayal from his wife and best friend.”

A collective murmur swept through the class. Even though they’d all heard the story before, it still sent a chill through the air.

“The real question,” the lecturer continued, “is whether Elara and Rowland’s betrayal was enough to turn King Alaric into a monster.”

Liana’s hand rose again, quicker this time. “No, sir. I honestly think Alaric was just a petty, selfish man hiding behind his trauma. He couldn’t handle pain, so he destroyed everything around him.”

Gasps rippled across the classroom. The lecturer blinked at her, taken aback. “History tells us he faced severe abandonment, Liana. Elara betrayed him with his closest friend-on his own bed. That’s enough to change any man.”

She shook her head. “Maybe. But all we have is Monk Alphonso’s version. One source. For all we know, he twisted the truth to make Alaric seem pitiful.”

The silence that followed was thick. Even the ceiling fan seemed to pause.

“Queen Elara was probably a victim of history’s manipulation,” Liana added softly, her voice trembling with conviction. “And I feel sorry for her. I wish I could turn back time and see it all for myself.”

When she realized what she’d just said, her heart nearly stopped. It was her first time speaking that much in class, and now every pair of eyes was on her.

The lecturer hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Alright. For your assignment, write extensively on the significance of the ravens.” He smiled faintly. “Meanwhile, you can visit the school museum. There’s a portrait of Queen Elara- the one Monk Alphonso drew. It’s said her beauty was beyond words.”

He picked up his notes and paused just before leaving. “Legend says, in the eyes of the Queen, only can the Raven King be restored.”

Liana’s head tilted. “In the eyes of the Queen…” she repeated under her breath.

A classmate nudged her. “You okay?”

She chuckled nervously. “Yeah. Just thinking. Why do I feel like he’s obsessed with Alaric?”

When the bell rang, she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed toward the canteen. A sandwich and coffee first, then the museum.

*******

The school museum buzzed with voices and footsteps. Groups of students gathered around glass cases, pointing and chatting excitedly. Liana adjusted her glasses, feeling a flutter of nervousness. It was her first time there as a freshman.

She trailed through the hallways lined with ancient relics, gold-plated swords, faded letters, and fragments of crowns. The air smelled faintly of wood polish and history.

Ahead, a small crowd had formed near the far end of the gallery. Curious, Liana made her way there. Her classmates stood clustered around a framed portrait- the alleged Queen Elara herself.

“She’s so beautiful,” one girl whispered.

“No wonder Alaric lost his mind over her,” another said.

“Imagine being loved so hard someone burns the world for you.”

Liana rolled her eyes slightly. “Or being blamed for something you didn’t even do,” she muttered.

Then she looked up, and froze.

The portrait was breathtaking. Queen Elara was painted in a lilac floral gown that seemed to shimmer even under the dull museum lights. Her hair flowed like silk over her shoulders, and her eyes… her eyes were haunting. Too real. Too alive.

They were the kind of eyes that looked right into your soul.

Liana’s breath hitched. She took a cautious step forward, unable to look away. Something inside her stirred, something deep and strange, like déjà vu.

Her fingers tingled as she studied the brushstrokes, the delicate outline of the Queen’s lips, the faint sadness caught in her smile.

It almost felt like Elara was watching her.

A shiver ran down her spine. She glanced around and realized everyone else had already moved on to other displays. It was just her now — her and the Queen.

“In the eyes of the Queen, only can the Raven King be restored…” she whispered.

Her voice echoed faintly against the marble walls.

She repeated it again, slower this time. Then once more.

On the third whisper, something flickered.

The air thickened. The lights above her began to dim. Liana blinked rapidly, trying to steady her vision, but the room was spinning, liiterally spinning.

The floor rippled beneath her shoes, and the portrait of Queen Elara shimmered like a reflection in disturbed water.

“What’s happening…” she breathed out, clutching her head.

The last thing she saw was the Queen’s painted lips curling — a small, knowing smile.

Then everything went dark.