Prologue
Anshar
Two years before the battle
I wake from a restful sleep with a smile on my face, anticipation coursing through my veins. Today is the day.
Today, I will ask the woman I love to marry me.
Oslana. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. A presence so all-consuming, she invades my every waking thought and even my dreams. Those swirling, teal eyes, that long, copper hair, and those lean curves—no one holds a flame to my girl.
Groaning from the morning wood straining my pants, I stretch before climbing out of bed and into a cold shower in the attached bathroom. The water washes over me, taking with it the remaining tendrils of sleep. Once I’m fully awake, I turn the shower off and get ready to meet Oslana for our weekly breakfast date.
With the beginning of every week, I anticipate our alone time. We’ve held onto it since we were kids, since we were first permitted to wander the castle grounds without adult supervision. While our parents convened for their meetings every Sunday, we’d gorged ourselves on food until we’d thought we were ready to burst.
But soon, she’ll be crowned Queen, now that she’s old enough. We’ll have to find another day since she’ll now have to attend those meetings in their place.
I throw on an emerald green tunic that matches my eyes and happens to be Lana’s favorite color on me. Standing for a moment, I grab and admire the moonstone ring resting in my palm. I intend to propose to Lana with this ring. My mother saved it for us, for this moment.
“She doesn’t want you. You’re weak. Inadequate to stand next to the future Queen.”
“I don’t know why you continue to whisper lies into my head. I told you I don’t want your deal. I have everything I could ever want right in front of me.”
“No one is ever satisfied with what they have. We always wish to be better. To be stronger. I feel that need inside you.”
“Leave me. Find a new victim to prey upon. I called to you in a moment of weakness. I have no further need for you.”
“You cannot just dismiss me like I’m a low-level demon. I’m a God. You’ll need me soon enough, boy.”
“No. Soon enough, I’ll be able to call her mine. My wife.”
I shake the conversation out of my head, whistling to myself to block out any further attempts at needling me. Roaming through the corridors, I make my way to the kitchens, waving at the staff as I go.
This kingdom is truly one of a kind. The citizens are gentle-hearted, caring, and kind, with an uplifting energy that never fails to refresh me. I can’t imagine a life elsewhere.
I truly have everything I need to be happy here.
Years ago, when my brother passed, my anger at the world consumed me. When my hands fell on a book of dark magic, it was all too tempting, all too difficult to resist. Without much thought of the consequences, I called out to an ancient god, imploring him to bring my brother back from the afterlife. When he failed me, Oslana was the one to help me through the aftermath. She held my head above the suffocating tides of depression that threatened to drown me every day.
I don’t need his magic. I have Oslana.
Strolling into the kitchen with my determination and love renewed, I drop a kiss onto Chef’s cheek. She’s a lovely, older woman, wrinkles etched into the lines of her face, with long, gray hair wrapped neatly into a bun. She tsks at me. “You’re early! I don't have your food ready yet.”
A cheeky grin crosses my face. Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I drop my face closer to hers, lowering my voice so no one else can hear. “I had to get here before Oslana. I’m going to propose to her today, here. It’s always been our favorite spot. It holds so many amazing, childhood memories. I was hoping you would want to be a part of it?”
Her mouth drops open in shock as she fumbles for her words, before she snaps it shut and throws her arms around my neck, pulling me into an embrace. “Oh! My boy! I’m so happy for you both. When did it progress to this point? Oh, never mind! How have you both grown up so quickly? Only yesterday, I was swatting your little butts with a wooden spoon for sneaking food.”
I pull back from her with a smile. “It took me some time to work up the courage for this but I can feel it in my bones. We’re meant for each other. I don’t want her to go one more day without knowing how much I love her.”
Chef smiles with wet eyes before withdrawing altogether. She smacks her cheeks, scolding herself, “Pull it together, lady!” Rubbing her eyes, she looks at the clock. “She’ll be here any minute. I need to get back to cooking. How can I help?”
Pulling the ring out of my pocket, I twirl it in my fingers, admiring it as the various colors swirl with the white. I fill her in on the plan to put the ring on top of her food, before she eagerly gets back to work, continuing the breakfast preparations.
Soft footsteps sound behind me and I hear Oslana’s soft greetings to the staff. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and I remind myself that this is meant to be. No one else could possibly love her like I do.
I take a seat at our usual spot, the wooden high-top table, as she softly pads over to me with a smile on her lips. She drops a kiss onto my cheek. “Good morning! I don’t know about you but I am so ready to eat until I can’t move.”
I chuckle at her eternal love for food. “Your love for food almost makes me jealous. I hope one day, you will look at me like you look at your honey biscuits.”
She shakes her head, her smile spreading to show her pearly white teeth. “No one could ever take the place of my biscuits.” Glancing over at the biscuits across the kitchen, she sighs. “My precious.”
My lips tilt upwards at her dramatics, my fingers running over the table until they hit an uneven surface. I glance down to our initials carved into the tabletop. We were seven when we did that.
Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Do you have anyone in mind to ask to the summer ball? I was thinking of asking—”
Chef brings over our plates, cutting Oslana’s words off and winking at me. I’m so grateful for her deliberate interruption. I want to be the one to ask Oslana to the ball, as my betrothed.
White plates, stacked high with hot cakes, fill our vision as they’re placed one by one before us. At the very top of Oslana’s plate, on top of the stack of pancakes, a single teal rose lies, the ring nestled in the petals, clearly visible.
At first, she doesn’t see it, simply cooing over the beauty of the rose. I see the exact moment her gaze catches on the ring. Her brow furrows into the picture of confusion before her eyes widen, her hands flying to her mouth as she looks at me in shock.
Heart beating wildly in my chest, I fall to one knee in a breath. “Oslana, will you do me the honor of being my wife?” Her eyes fill with tears but she doesn’t speak. Good, because I have more to say. “We have grown together, from children into adults, and I yearn to live my life with you always, until our hair turns gray and our children have children.”
As the emotion pooling in her eye’s spills onto her cheeks, I smile. This is exactly how I’d dreamed it would be. We will always cherish this moment.
Plucking the ring from the rose, she slides from her stool and spills to her knees in front of me. Confusion clouds my face as she places the ring in my hand, closing my fingers over it, as the tears fall freely down her face.