Betrothed to the devil himself
And at the center, pulled by obsidian steeds that snorted fire, came a carriage of iron and gold, vast and terrible, its sides engraved with beasts unknown, its wheels crushing the stones beneath it.
The gates of Cural opened not by command but by fear.
The palace shook as the carriage rolled into the courtyard. Its doors swung wide, and for a breathless moment, all eyes strained toward its dark interior.
Then he stepped forth.
Zerach.
The Horned King.
He was taller than any man in the court, his shoulders broad as a fortress wall, his skin bronzed by fire and battle. From his forehead curved the black horn, sharp as a blade, glinting like obsidian beneath the torches. His eyes burned with a
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