RAVETHORNE🐺

Chapter Seven

Bound by Iron and Blood

Lady Consort Elissa Duskmere

The House of Ravenor was less a noble estate and more a fortress built to withstand kingdoms.

Its colossal stone walls soared into the heavens, their grey surfaces weathered by countless seasons, standing as an unyielding testament to Ravenor's might. Along the towering battlements, armored knights stood at vigilant attention while archers watched from elevated positions, bows resting in practiced hands. Their unwavering gazes swept every corner of the estate with disciplined precision.

Not even a bird could fly over those walls unnoticed.

As our carriage passed through the imposing iron gates, I found myself silently swallowing.

So this would be my home.

The estate stretched farther than my eyes could follow. Manicured gardens intertwined with cobbled paths that led to towering buildings of dark stone. Grand training grounds echoed with the rhythmic clashing of steel as dozens of Ravenor knights sparred beneath the afternoon sun. Stable hands hurried between magnificent warhorses while servants moved with practiced efficiency through the sprawling grounds.

The estate was so vast that it could have comfortably housed an entire town within its walls.

A quiet realization settled in my chest.

There would be no slipping beyond these gates unnoticed.

The thought was strangely suffocating.

The butler, Cresst, led me through endless hallways lined with polished black marble. Towering windows allowed streams of golden sunlight to spill across intricate crimson carpets embroidered with silver ravens.

Every ornament spoke of immeasurable wealth.

Every servant moved with perfect discipline.

Every guard carried an air that reminded me this was not merely a household.

It was an empire.

Cresst finally stopped before an enormous pair of carved oak doors.

"My Lady Consort," he announced with a respectful bow before pushing them open.

I stepped inside.

The chamber stole the breath from my lungs.

It was nearly twice the size of my bedroom at Duskmere Manor. Silk curtains cascaded from the ceiling to the polished floor, framing tall windows that overlooked the estate. A magnificent fireplace crackled softly, warming the room despite the evening chill.

Golden candleholders rested upon polished mahogany tables, their flames dancing against walls decorated with elegant tapestries depicting generations of House Ravenor.

Even the candles seemed to burn brighter within gold.

Across the chamber stood an adjoining dressing room.

No...

It was practically another chamber.

Rows upon rows of exquisite gowns hung neatly in polished wardrobes. Velvet, silk, satin, lace—every imaginable fabric shimmered beneath crystal chandeliers. Some dresses glittered delicately with hand-sewn gemstones while others were embroidered with threads of silver and gold.

Each one looked worthy of royalty.

Had my marriage been born of love instead of duty...

I would have been overjoyed.

Near the far end of the room, a luxurious marble bathing chamber awaited me. Steam gently rose from an enormous bathtub carved from white stone. Rose petals floated gracefully upon fragrant water scented with lavender, jasmine, sandalwood, and fresh herbs. Delicate bottles of scented oils lined polished shelves while thick towels softer than clouds waited nearby.

Everything had been prepared long before my arrival.

Nothing was lacking.

Two maids quietly approached and curtsied.

"My Lady Consort."

Yena and Leela carefully helped me out of my traveling clothes before dressing me in a luxurious cream-colored robe trimmed with soft white fur that brushed gently against my skin. The warmth wrapped around me almost immediately.

I settled onto a plush fur-lined chaise near the fireplace, allowing myself the first true moment of rest since leaving home.

"My Lady Consort," Yena said with another respectful bow, "your evening meal has arrived."

"Leave it on the bedside table."

"Yes, My Lady."

As she carefully arranged the meal, I turned toward both maids. Yena was my newly maid assigned by the butler Crest.

"Leela."

"Yes, My Lady?"

"You'll be residing with me from now on."

Her face brightened.

"Thank you, My Lady."

I smiled gently.

"Yena, be kind to her."

"Of course, My Lady."

This was unfamiliar ground for both Leela and me.

I understood all too well what it meant to enter a place where one did not belong.

When Father had first been elevated into the nobility, fitting into high society had been anything but easy. Those born into privilege had looked down upon us without restraint. Every gathering had become another silent battlefield where every smile concealed ridicule and every polite greeting carried hidden contempt.

I had learned to adapt.

To stand tall.

And when necessary...

To fight back with grace.

The two maids excused themselves, leaving the room quiet once more.

Silence settled around me.

Yet my mind refused to rest.

An unfamiliar home.

Unfamiliar faces.

Unfamiliar intentions.

No matter how luxurious the surroundings were, uncertainty remained the greatest discomfort.

I had no idea what kind of people truly lived within these walls.

Later that evening, Yena escorted me toward the dining hall.

Calling it a dining room felt almost insulting.

The chamber was enormous, built in the shape of a grand triangle beneath soaring vaulted ceilings. Crystal chandeliers illuminated a polished ebony table long enough to host dozens of guests. Massive stained-glass windows reflected the candlelight in dazzling colors that danced across the marble floor.

Lady Isolde Ravenor was already seated gracefully at the table.

Beside her sat Lily.

The moment I entered, Isolde offered me a gentle smile.

"Greetings, Lady Isolde."

"Greetings, Lady Consort."

Yena quietly pulled out my chair before stepping back.

I took my seat.

Perhaps...

The title wasn't so unpleasant after all.

A scoff shattered the peaceful silence.

"You've either forgotten the proper etiquette," Lily remarked coldly, "or becoming Lady Consort has blinded you with arrogance."

Always eager to embarrass herself.

Lady Isolde immediately attempted to silence her daughter.

"Lily."

I remained perfectly calm.

There was no need to rush.

The best responses were always delivered at precisely the right moment.

I looked toward Lily with a composed smile.

"I wasn't aware royal titles carried so little importance within House Ravenor."

Silence fell instantly.

"I greeted Lady Isolde first out of filial piety. However..." I tilted my head ever so slightly. "His Majesty personally bestowed upon me the title of Lady Consort—a rank that stands above that of a Lady."

My tone remained gentle.

Respectful.

Entirely innocent.

Which made the words sting even more.

Before Lily could respond, a deep commanding voice echoed across the hall.

"What nonsense is this?"

Hadrian Ravenor.

He strode into the dining chamber with an authority that demanded obedience without ever raising his voice.

His piercing gaze settled on Lily.

"Greet the Lady Consort properly."

Neither Lily nor Isolde dared hesitate.

"Greetings, Lady Consort."

They spoke together.

I lowered my eyes to hide the smile threatening to betray my satisfaction.

The remainder of the meal passed in near silence.

Only the soft clinking of silver cutlery disturbed the quiet.

As Hadrian rose to leave, he paused.

"The Queen has summoned both you and Elissa to the palace."

His eyes shifted briefly toward Lily.

"It is Princess Uzela's birthday celebration."

Without another word, he departed.

Princess Uzela.

Prince Rhydian's younger sister.

Unlike Princess Nyxa, whose mother had once been a palace maid.

Rumor whispered that the maid had disappeared shortly after Nyxa's birth.

Many believed Queen Evelyne herself had ordered the woman's death.

Whether truth or court gossip, no one dared speak of it openly.

I exhaled quietly.

Attending Princess Uzela's birthday was undoubtedly a great honor.

Yet where the Queen was concerned...

Honor often walked hand in hand with danger.

Still...

If I were stepping into the royal palace once again, I intended to do so looking every bit the Lady Consort I had become.

After all...

An exquisite wardrobe served little purpose if its dresses remained unworn.

Meanwhile...............

Theoren Ravenor

The wind carried the scent of iron.

Not from the weapons.

From the blood.

Bodies lay strewn across the clearing like discarded dolls, crimson soaking into the dark earth beneath them. Broken blades glimmered between corpses, while the last of the dying groaned weakly, their pleas swallowed by the whispering pines.

Theoren Ravenor stood in the center of it all.

His black cloak stirred gently in the wind.

A single drop of blood slid from the edge of his sword before disappearing into the grass below.

His silver eyes remained indifferent as they swept over the battlefield, searching for movement—not out of caution, but habit.

"General..." one of the surviving Ravenor knights called cautiously. "All offenders have been dealt with."

No reply.

Theoren crouched before a wounded man who struggled to breathe.

The outlaw's trembling hand reached for a fallen dagger.

Without even looking down, Theoren stepped on the man's wrist.

A sickening crack echoed through the clearing.

The scream that followed lasted only a heartbeat.

One clean thrust.

Silence.

He withdrew the blade without expression.

Not satisfaction.

Not anger.

Simply another task completed.

A nearby stream trickled over smooth stones. Theoren knelt beside it, dipping his gloved hands into the icy water. Crimson swirled away with the current as he methodically washed every trace of blood from his fingers.

Footsteps approached from behind.

Measured.

Unhurried.

"My lord."

Theoren did not turn.

Ariel, his personal attendant since childhood, stopped a respectful distance away before bowing.

"I bring news from Ravenor Manor."

Theoren continued rinsing his hands.

"Speak."

"The Grand General requests your immediate return."

He reached for the linen cloth Ariel offered and dried his hands in silence.

"There is another matter."

Still, no response.

Ariel hesitated.

"...Your engagement has been announced."

For the first time, Theoren paused.

His gaze lifted from the flowing water.

"...To whom?"

"Lady Elissa Duskmere."

Silence settled over the forest.

Theoren frowned almost imperceptibly.

"...Who?"

Behind him—

A body moved.

One of the men presumed dead suddenly lurched to his feet, a jagged dagger clutched in his bloodied hand.

"Die!"

The outlaw charged.

The nearby Ravenor knights barely had time to react.

Before anyone could draw another breath—

A flash of silver.

Theoren had not even reached for his sword.

His thumb brushed the raven-shaped ring resting upon his finger.

A concealed blade no longer than a finger slipped free.

The attacker stumbled.

His eyes widened.

A thin crimson line appeared across his throat.

For one suspended moment...

Nothing happened.

Then blood poured from the wound.

He collapsed face-first into the dirt.

Dead.

Theoren calmly folded the hidden blade back into the ring.

Only then did he glance at the corpse.

"Search them again."

His voice remained low.

"If one could feign death..."

His cold gaze swept over every fallen body.

"...others can."

The Ravenor knights immediately obeyed.

No one questioned him.

No one ever did.

Ariel cleared his throat carefully.

"My lord... about Lady Elissa..."

Theoren slid his sword back into its sheath.

"We leave."

"My lord... the engagement?"

He mounted his black stallion in one fluid motion.

"We'll discuss it on the road."

With a tug of the reins, the horse surged forward.

The Ravenor banner rose behind him as dozens of riders followed without hesitation.

None of them noticed the faint crease between Theoren's brows.

Lady Elissa Duskmere.

The name meant nothing to him.

Yet somehow...

She had become his fiancée.