Chapter 1

I stood on the edge of a precipice, helplessly watching the man I loved duel for my hand in marriage—and lose miserably, losing not only my hand, but his life.

My beloved Cristhofer fought with everything he had against Commander John Chase, a tall man who was nearing twenty-eight years old.

He ruled the Isle of Raven, which lay beside Shivia, and the reason he was fighting for my hand had nothing to do with love. It was about politics and power, because I was Helena Lancaster, sister of King Carlos Lancaster II, who had thought it amusing to host a tournament to the death for my hand.

How romantic, right?! Men coming from every corner of the kingdom just to die competing for the chance to marry me.

So when the head of the only man I wanted to win the tournament fell onto the fighting arena, I felt like it was the end of me.

John Chase was in the final round of the tournament for the princess, and the crowd roared with delight at the bloody spectacle he had provided them. From the top of our royal tent, I looked into the eyes of the man who had a very good chance of becoming my husband for the first time.

His black hair fell damp with sweat over his forehead. His eyes were as black as onyx stones, and his face, with its stubble, well-defined nose, and strong chin, was undeniably attractive. If it weren't for Cristhofer's blood smeared across his face, he might have looked ordinary and handsome.

He looked up toward where I sat beside the king, who was enthusiastically clapping at the slaughter. His dark eyes met mine, and I saw an abyss in them, a profound darkness like a cold, pitch-black night. That was what his eyes were like.

I really couldn't marry that man!

I rose from my chair, feeling my tears threatening to fall in front of everyone. They betrayed my emotions, desperately trying to release the pain I was doing everything I could to hide, because I couldn't let those people see that the man I loved had fallen dead while they celebrated.

So I left the area reserved for the king, accompanied by guards to the carriage, heading back to the palace, where I could cry for Cristhofer in the privacy of my chambers.

When I passed through the doors, my room was filled with maids preparing a bath and carrying several dresses for the ball. I screamed at all of them to leave.

I knew the reason for all the commotion. Shortly before the king announced the finalists of the semifinals, he had declared that whoever won their place in the final fight would be invited to a ball held at the royal palace that very night.

I had believed that tonight I would be in Cristhofer's arms...

When the maids widened their eyes at my screams, I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for yelling at them. My heart had been shattered by the man I had just lost, and the last thing I wanted was to spend the evening in a ballroom with the man who had coldly killed him.

When I looked at them again, I realized that although they were frightened by my orders, they hadn't moved from their places. And although my tears threatened to fall, I held them back.

When I turned to look in the direction of the maids' gazes, I immediately understood the reason for their hesitation.

"What do you think you're doing, Helena? You, get back to work," ordered Hera, the queen, also known as the hag.

I took a deep breath and stared into those inquisitive blue eyes.

My relationship with Cristhofer was a secret because he wasn't a nobleman. But thanks to the tournament, he had been given the chance to compete for my hand, because that was the part of the tournament that had drawn men from all corners of the kingdom. No noble title was required to participate.

So my sullen and hysterical behavior had awakened that suspicious blue-eyed gaze.

"Tonight is an important night. Look at you with that tearful face, those tired eyes as if you haven't slept all night! This is not how a princess should look. Take a bath and let the maids make you presentable."

With those harsh words, without even giving me the chance to argue that this ball was not important to me, she turned away and was accompanied by her guards down the corridor, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, dying to tell her how much I hated her.

The following hours were spent taking a hot bath, putting on dresses and jewelry, and having the maids style my hair.

The final result was me wearing a wine-colored dress with a neckline that was far too revealing. I asked the maids why I had been given that dress, but they only said that they were following orders from above.

How degrading had my life become, when I couldn't even choose my own clothes?

Impeccable makeup illuminated the gray of my eyes. My black hair fell in thick curls all the way to my waist. Atop my head sat a tiara framed with crystals. All of it was merely a display of the valuable prize I was, as if I weren't a person, but just another jewel in the crown.

I believed that was how women everywhere were viewed by men—a prize to be won. That realization made me nauseous, but it also brought back painful memories.

Cristhofer's face, with his blond curls framing it, his carefree and sincere, almost childish smile that was always there, his loving green eyes...

He never saw me as a jewel in a king's palace.

To him, my worth wasn't measured by nobility or wealth...

And that was why I loved him.

As I walked down the corridor accompanied by guards, the sounds of celebration and loud conversations grew louder and louder.

I simply wanted to wipe off this makeup, throw this tiara against the wall, and return to my chambers, but halfway down the corridor, I froze.

My body hadn't sounded this alarm in a long time. I felt that tangible sense of danger, and I didn't know how to explain who was responsible for awakening it in me until the ballroom doors opened and a man walked through them.

That man was John Chase.

He was dressed elegantly, wearing the same colors as me—wine and shades of black—but strangely, on him, they seemed to shine, even though he wasn't wearing a single piece of jewelry.

His dark gaze swept over me, analyzing my dress and predictably stopping at my cleavage. I began wondering who had given the order for such a dress. It wouldn't surprise me if he had offered gold and silver to the king and queen just so he could choose my outfit that night. But if he had done that, he had done it before the fight, and that only showed the extent of his confidence and arrogance.

He had shaved his beard, revealing the pale, flawless skin of his face more clearly. His eyebrows were black and thick, giving his expression a permanent seriousness. His eyes were far too dark, revealing nothing about him except that he was cunning.

When I remained frozen a few feet away from him, his deep voice echoed through the corridor.

"Did my presence frighten the princess?"

Then the seriousness I had seen before completely vanished from his expression, replaced by a lewd cynicism. A provocative smile played across his perfect lips, because that was exactly what he wanted—to frighten me.

What a vile man!

I straightened my posture, trying to ignore the trembling I felt, trying not to let it show that his presence in the corridor, even without the blood from the arena, dressed in clean and beautiful clothes, was intimidating.

His aura screamed at me that he was a dangerous man, in every possible sense, and that was what had made me stop when I saw him.

Call it a sixth sense, intuition, a special ability, but it was something that had been with me since I was born.

So I stared at him. The provocative smile on his lips told me he wasn't the least bit shaken by the life he had taken only a few hours ago.

He was completely cold about it.

"You're not as frightening as you think you are," I retorted and forced my legs to continue moving.

But when I reached the doors, he blocked my path.

I looked at the guards, who moved to oppose him, but John Chase smiled again. This time, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket bearing the king's seal and held it out to me.

When I took the paper, I saw what it said.

I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was.

Or rather, horrified.

"Since the princess has been rendered speechless, I'm certain it must be because of the emotion caused by what she has read. Allow me to clarify it for you, noble guards."

He took the paper from my hand and unfolded it in front of the anxious guards.

"I, King Carlos Lancaster II, authorize the Commander of the Isle of Raven, John Chase, to take the princess for a walk through the palace gardens," John Chase announced in a solemn voice.