Aurelia Delensar pressed a hand to her mouth, her heart pounding as she fled from Queen Isolde's chambers. She had overheard something terrifying—something that made her blood run cold.
That afternoon, Aurelia had slipped away from the stern governess who oversaw her lessons, seeking refuge in the small sitting room of the queen's quarters. It was the day of the Summer Solstice, a festival dedicated to the Harvest Deity, and the palace was abuzz with preparations for the grand banquet. Her father, the king, and her elder brother, the crown prince, had been delayed in the Vesperia Wastes by a rare desert storm and would not return in time for the festivities. With the queen left to manage the chaos, Aurelia had thought no one would notice her hiding spot.
But then, two of the queen's handmaidens had returned to fetch something, their voices carrying through the antechamber.
"Jenny, have you heard? Among the foreign envoys attending tonight, there's one from Eldrath."
"Eldrath? You mean…"
The second maid, Jenny, lowered her voice, her tone tinged with unease. Aurelia's curiosity piqued. She vaguely recalled her governess, Sister Maribel, mentioning Eldrath—a distant, enigmatic land beyond the northern borders. What race inhabited it again? Aurelia had never paid much attention during her lessons, and the details eluded her. She leaned closer, straining to hear.
The maids exchanged a glance, their words growing cautious and cryptic.
"It's been twenty years. I thought we'd never hear that name again."
"Indeed," Jenny murmured, her hands making a subtle gesture. "They say a full-grown Lycan's fingers are thicker than our arms, let alone… *that* part."
"How horrifying."
Horrifying? What part? What were they talking about? And why were they mentioning Lycans? To Aurelia, who had spent her entire life within the palace walls, Lycans were little more than a vague concept from her textbooks—creatures with the ferocity of beasts and the cunning of men, holding a dominant position among the fae races. Humans and fae had always kept their distance from one another. Why were they being discussed now?
Aurelia's curiosity burned like a fever. She wanted to burst out and demand the maids explain themselves, but she knew better. Queen Isolde was not her birth mother, and the two had never been on good terms. The queen envied Aurelia's beauty and had long seen her as a rival. Were it not for the king and crown prince's protection, Isolde would have gladly banished Aurelia from the palace.
The maids fell silent for a moment before Jenny hesitantly asked, "So, are they here to demand we fulfill the Bloodbound Oath?"
The older maid sighed. "Oh, my poor Princess Aurelia…"
Aurelia froze. Why were they suddenly talking about her? A cold dread settled in her chest.
"Our delicate, beautiful princess, forced to wed a savage Lycan. How could someone so fragile endure such brutality?"
"May the Holy Light protect her."
"…"
The room fell silent, and the maids' footsteps faded away.
Her? Forced to marry—a savage Lycan?! Aurelia's face paled. As soon as the maids left, she gathered the voluminous skirts of her Crimson Bloom gown and bolted from the room. The layers of her whalebone farthingale rustled softly as her pink satin slippers tapped against the pristine marble floors. She moved like a rose caught in a breeze, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight.
Aurelia hurried through the palace gardens, her mind racing. She burst into her chambers, slamming the door behind her. Kicking off her slippers, she paced barefoot across the plush white carpet, her thoughts in turmoil.
This was absurd—utterly absurd! She was a princess of the Kingdom of Delensar. How could she be forced to marry a barbaric Lycan? Her father adored her; he would never allow such a thing to happen.
Wait—Aurelia's steps faltered. She remembered a story Sister Maribel had once told her during a lesson. Twenty years ago, during a time of civil unrest, a young prince—her father—had been stripped of his inheritance and exiled to the north, nearly perishing in the frozen wilderness. A Lycan had saved him, helping him reclaim his throne and defeat the usurper. In return, the Lycan had demanded the prince's daughter as his bride, to break a curse placed upon him by a witch.
That prince was her father. And Aurelia was his only daughter of marriageable age.
"No, it can't be," Aurelia whispered, shaking her head. "Father loves me. He wouldn't let this happen."
Her mother had died in childbirth, and Aurelia, born prematurely, had always been delicate. Her father had doted on her, treating her like a precious gem. He would never send her to the icy wastelands of the north to be the wife of a savage fae.
But—her father wasn't here. The queen held absolute authority in the palace, and she had never been fond of Aurelia. What if Isolde seized this opportunity to hand her over to the envoy from Eldrath?
Aurelia couldn't take that risk.
"I have to leave," she declared, slamming her hands on the table. She stormed to the door and flung it open.
Two knights stood guard outside, their silver armor gleaming. They bowed as she appeared, their eyes respectfully averted.
"Your Highness, how may we serve you?"
Aurelia bit her lip. She had forgotten. In this palace of rigid etiquette, she was never alone. Wherever she went, she was followed by an entourage of attendants. Her brief escape to the queen's chambers had only been possible because her riding lesson had taken her to the outdoor arena, where her maids had to wait outside.
If she wanted to leave the palace unnoticed, she would need help—someone loyal to her alone, someone unafraid of the queen's wrath.
Someone who would obey her without question.