Episode Three
1285 Words
Zariah threw the wedding dress across her bed.
“Take it away!” she snapped.
The three dressmakers looked at each other nervously.
“But Your Highness, the king ordered us to begin your preparations immediately,” one of them explained.
“Then go and tell him to wear it himself!”
Tessa quickly covered her mouth, but a small laugh escaped.
The seamstresses gathered their materials and hurried out of the princess room.
Zariah kicked the dress out of her way and sat down in a chair.
“Can you believe this?” she demanded, turning to Tessa. “My father has arranged my marriage, and now everyone is measuring me for a dress as if I'm already dead!”
“Please don't say that,” Tessa said softly.
“Then what should I say? That I'm excited to marry a man whose former wives either died or disappeared?”
Tessa's mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Zariah rubbed her forehead. She had spent the entire morning arguing with servants, refusing wedding preparations, and searching for a way out of the marriage. Nothing had worked.
She suddenly stood up.
“I need to find out who this man really is.”
Tessa grabbed her wrist. “You're not thinking of running away, are you?”
“Not yet.” Zariah released herself and went to the door. “But I won't marry him without knowing what I'm getting into.”
The royal library was almost empty when Zariah entered.
She searched through several books before finding an old record of the northern territories. She turned the pages until she found a man with cold, hard eyes and dark hair.
Under it, a name.
Lord Kael Draven.
Zariah leaned closer.
“So this is the man who's going to ruin my life,” she muttered.
“Are you speaking to the portrait, Your Highness?” A voice asked behind her.
She spun around and saw a young librarian standing behind her, holding a stack of books.
“I'm speaking to whoever put that unpleasant face in a book,” Zariah replied.
When the librarian looked at the picture, he lowered his eyes quickly.
“That's Lord Draven. I wouldn't suggest insulting him if he were here.”
“Why? Does he punish people for having eyes?”
“People say he punishes disobedience.”
Zariah folded her arms and looked around. “And what else do people say?”
The librarian paused before putting his books on a table nearby.
“They say his first wife died under strange circumstances. His second wife disappeared less than a year after their wedding.”
Zariah's fingers tightened around the book.
“Was he responsible?”
“Nobody knows.”
“So why does everybody act like he killed them?”
“Nobody would dare ask him what happened.”
A heavy silence settled between them.
Zariah glanced at the painting once more. The man's eyes seemed almost alive, as if he could see straight through her.
She closed the book.
“Wonderful. I'm marrying a man everyone is afraid to question.”
She put the book back on the shelf and walked out of the library.
King Edric invited her to dinner later that night.
Zariah came in and found him sitting at the head of the long table. She pulled out a chair and sat without touching the food.
“Your wedding will take place in three weeks,” the king announced.
Zariah's spoon fell from her hand and hit the plate.
“Three weeks?”
Yes. Lord Draven expects you in Blackthorn shortly after.”
She stared at him, her mouth slightly open.
“You've already decided everything, haven't you? The wedding, the journey, my entire life.”
“Because someone has to make sensible decisions for you.”
Her chair scraped against the floor as she stood.
“I'm not a child!”
“Then stop behaving like one!”
Zariah held on to the side of the table. When she released her fingers, they were pale.
“Have you thought about what kind of man you are sending me?”
“I know enough about Lord Draven.”
“Then tell me something useful! Will he be nice to me? Will he allow me to leave his castle? What happened to his wives?”
The king's hand stopped halfway to his glass.
For a moment, his eyes shifted towards the window.
Zariah caught it.
“You know something,” she whispered.
“Sit down, Zariah.”
“No. Answer me.” She screamed.
King Edric slammed his hand on the table. The cutlery rattled.
“You will marry Lord Draven, and that is final!”
Zariah's eyes burned. She blinked hard and did not allow the tears to come out in front of him.
“You might be able to order me into that marriage,” she said, her voice shaking, “but you cannot order me to forgive you for it.”
She turned and walked out.
This time, the king didn't call her back.
Later that night, Zariah sat beside her window, twisting the ring on her finger until it left a red mark on her skin.
A knock sounded.
Tessa had a sealed letter in her hands.
“This arrived from Blackthorn.”
Zariah snatched it from her hand.
A black wolf was stamped into the wax.
She broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
“Princess Zariah Vale,
Your arrival in Blackthorn is expected. I have no patience for disobedience, foolish games, or unnecessary trouble.
You will respect the rules of my household.
Kael Draven.”
Zariah read the letter a second time. After that, she placed it on the table.
“Not even a greeting!” she exclaimed. “Does this man think he's marrying a servant?”
Tessa picked up the letter. “Perhaps you should be careful. He might not appreciate being insulted.”
Zariah pulled a fresh sheet of paper towards her.
“Neither do I.”
She dipped her pen into the ink and began writing.
Lord Draven,
I have read your letter. Since you seem so concerned about obedience, allow me to make one thing clear: I am coming to Blackthorn as your wife, not your prisoner.
You may rule your territory, but you will not decide who I am.
Zariah Vale.
She folded it and stamped it with her signet.
Tessa stared at her. You mean you're going to send that?
“Of course.”
“He might send you straight back to your father.”
Zariah handed her the letter.
“Then at least one of them will have to explain why he couldn't handle me.”
Tessa shook her head and rushed out before Zariah could think otherwise.
Zariah went back to the window, gazing at the darkness outside the palace walls.
After a few minutes, rushed footsteps were heard outside.
The door flew open and Tessa ran in with her face as pale as paper.
“Zariah, something's wrong.”
Zariah turned. “What happened?”
Tessa held up a second letter.
“This came with the messenger who took your reply. Lord Draven sent it before your letter even reached him.”
Zariah grabbed the parchment and ripped it open.
There was only one sentence.
“Your wedding has been moved forward. You will arrive in Blackthorn within seven days.”
Her fingers loosened.
The letter dropped to the ground.
Seven days??
Zariah glared at the message, while Tessa stepped back from the door slowly.
Neither of them noticed the guard taking up position outside her bedroom.
This time, her father wasn't giving her another chance to escape.
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