Three days have passed since the Princess of Astragarde was stolen from her wedding altar, and in that time Astragarde has become a kingdom drowned by grief.
The royal banners that once flew proudly above the palace walls now hang at half-mast, their vibrant blues muted against the gray sky. The markets that were always alive with color and trade now sit abandoned, their stalls shuttered, their cobblestone paths gathering dust. Even the usual songs of the capital, the clang of metal from the blacksmiths, the rustle of merchant wagons, the joyful cries of children weaving through the streets, have all faded into a hollow stillness.
The people move through the streets as though walking through a dream they cannot wake from—heads bowed, shoulders trembling, voices hushed to broken whispers. Candles burn in windows across the capital, hundreds of tiny flames flickering against the dusk in a vigil that has not dimmed since the day their princess was taken. Prayers rise instead of laughter. Silence answers instead of hope.
Rhiannon Aurelian is gone. And in her absence, Astragarde has fallen into a sorrow deeper than any wound carved by war.
The royal palace is the quietest of all.
Guards stand rigid at their posts, their armor dimmed beneath the shadows, their eyes shadowed by restless nights.
Yet in the heart of the kingdom, behind sealed doors and guarded halls, the one who suffers the most is the man who wears the crown. For while the kingdom mourns the loss of its princess…
A father mourns the loss of his child.
••{EROS'S POV}••
The cold stone beneath my fingers feels like the only solid thing in the world. I lean against the balcony railing outside my chambers, gazing into the distance, past the rolling hills and rivers, far beyond the walls of Astragarde, yet the world feels impossibly small, and meaningless. My heart aches so fiercely it feels as if it might rip apart inside my chest. Every gust of wind against my face seems to whisper my daughter's name.
I haven't felt pain like this since the day I lost her mother. Sleep has abandoned me these few past nights, and every passing hour without my Rhiannon feels like torment.
Questions circle endlessly in my mind, spinning like vultures over a carcass, but I try to push away those dark thoughts—tell myself that maybe she's safe, that she's alive—but my mind refuses to cooperate. She is a human in the hands of monsters and that reality alone terrifies me.
"Father," a calm voice breaks through my thoughts.
I turn to see my son, Rayn, standing in the doorway, his young face lined with worry that no child should carry.
"The royal court has been assembled," he says softly, stepping onto the balcony. "They're all waiting for you."
I give him a nod, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"I'll be there in a moment," I say, keeping my voice steady.
A moment of silence passes, and I feel the weight of our shared grief pressing down on us both. Then Rayn hesitates, his voice quieter, almost a whisper. "Do you… do you think Anna's—"
"Your sister is alive and well, son," I say firmly, resting a hand on his shoulder. The words feel almost hollow, but I speak them with the conviction I need him to believe.
Rayn looks into my eyes, and I see the glimmer of tears gathering there. Even as my own hope crumbles, I cannot let my children fall into the same despair that threatens to drown me.
Not now.
Not ever.
"Go," I tell him gently. "Tell them I'll be joining them soon."
He hesitates, then nods and retreats. I watch him leave, and the moment his footsteps fade, I turn back to the horizon once more. The sun has crept higher, spilling gold over the lands below. I clutch the balcony railing, breathing in the faint scent of the morning air, letting it steady me.
I leave the balcony and step inside. My eyes immediately fall on the crown resting on the vanity in my chamber. The gold gleams in the sunlight, a reminder of the duty, the expectation, and the strength I must project even when I feel like falling apart.
I sit and look into the mirror. Instead of seeing the reflection of a man broken by grief, I see a warrior.
A king.
The kingdom needs me to be that man. My daughter needs me to be that man more than ever, and this time, I won't fail her like I failed Rose.
Slowly, I lift the crown with both hands and place it upon my head. Pain shoots down my arm into my back, a lingering gift from the vampire who hurled me into stone. I wince, biting back against the pain and rising slowly.
I leave my chambers, moving through the palace corridors. Each step I take is measured but my mind races faster than my feet. As I approach the towering doors of the throne room, the guards bow and greet me.
I nod, motioning for them to open the doors.
The hinges groan and I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me.
Then I step inside the throne room.