LOGINA modern day kingdom in the country of Sargas has crowned its young queen after the sudden demise of her uncle, who died in his sleep unexpectedly. The new queen of only 19 years doesn't know much about politics and how to rule the land because she was her uncle's ward and the crown prince died in a fire at the factory 3 months ago. A kingdom where magic is banned and considered demonic, Atarah hides her power, desperately trying not to get dethroned. Looped in a contract marriage with her enemy, the prince of Antares, Dragomir. Atarah searches for revenge and love in between the chaos which is surfacing in her kingdom.
View MoreMargeret was right, Delroy was punctual and Atarah was late 15 minutes, her hair dripping wet as she had slipped on whatever she could find first thing. “I apologize for my late arrival. Let’s begin.” She said once she entered the hall, huffing. Delroy gave a nod and then began the meeting. They had started off with the taxes and construction, which made her zone out 5 minutes into the meeting. “Your highness, do you agree?” Atarah rubbed her eyes and looked at the staring eyes of the four men. Agree? To what? She thought, she didn't want to look like a fool just before coronation, “Yes, I agree.” she smiled. Delroy’s eyes lit up with her agreement as he said, “well then, there will be a ball on the coronation weekend.” “Uh.” Atarah nodded with agreement. She had no idea what the ball will be for, most probably to gain favours with the allies. “And what do you think of Prince Jaswer of Hargon.” she really wanted to squeeze the life out of Delroy, who the fuck was that? Atarah quickl
This wasn't the first time her birthday went so bloody. Atarah remembered her 14th birthday when her uncle had sent her to her first mission. It was to hunt a serial killer who had been kidnapping baby boys and eating their livers. She had found the man hunched over a fire, eating raw liver out of a dead baby boy. Atarah had vomited first at the brutal sight, and she wished for her parents to be there with her, to cover her eyes, and sing her back to sleep, saying it was all a dream. But she wasn't a 10-year-old anymore, so Atarah took a breath and took out her new sword. The man had watched her every move and then grinned. The blood dripped from his mouth, and his teeth were covered in little chunks of meat. He made a gurgling sound, as if calling her close to him. But Atarah knew best. She raised her sword just as the man stood up and brought it down, cutting his wrist off. The man screamed in agony; he ran forward, making those gurgling sound, and Atarah noticed he had no tongue.
The night was young, and the streets were filled with people enjoying the summer bliss. Black banners and flags waved at her as she passed by the shops. The mourning period wasn't over yet, and her citizen acknowledged that. Her red cape was hiding her figure and the mask hiding her face, but the huge needlework on the cape projected her birth and upon seeing it, many people bowed to her, muttering the phrase, “long live the queen.” Atarah didn't stop to nod or smile. This wasn't a summer solstice festival where all she did was smile. And wave at her cheering people. She looked o her right here at the empty alleyways and saw a black figure of a wolf walking with her steps. Atarah smiled. She knew Astara would never leave her alone. The port side was empty. Because of the recent murder, she saw as royal soldiers held back the few sailors who were curiously trying to take a peek at the hidden bodies. One soldier identified her and bowed, walking towards her, “Your highness, what bring
The next day, Atarah got ready for the funeral. She chose a simple black dress with her red velvet cape which adorned her house sigil. “Everyone’s ready to proceed, your highness.” Margaret informed her with a bow. “I’ll be right outside Margeret.” When Atarah stepped outside her room, beside her, Dragomir also stepped outside, wearing a black suit and bowtie. His silver hair was tied neatly in a bun. His kingdom and house sigil were stitched on his right breast. The memories of last night came back to her, and she turned away her head, hiding the blush which was forming. “Aren't you going?” he said, fixing his bowtie., Atarah nodded and led the way outside the palace, aware of Dragomir’s footsteps behind her. The funeral was held outside where the memorial burial house of the royal family was. Tulips grew in bushes surrounding the house, giving it a lively glow instead of a gloomy, dark place. The house itself was made of white marble, with hints of black and gray lines running thro






Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.