A Crown Of Raven

The Raven King

Hazel Pov.

The bold voice sent a shiver down my spine, but it wasn't one of fear. It was... unexpected. It wasn't the guttural roar I’d imagined from a man known for war and violence. It was smooth, almost hypnotic.

"Where is my wife to be?"

Lucas, my prince, my brother, straightened his back, a sneer plastered on his face. "She is right here, your majesty." He pushed me forward slightly, a subtle shove that told me to speak and behave.

Surrounding the king are about ten men, each of them with no armor or weapons, save a sword strapped to their back; even the King kept a sword at his back.

I looked up, meeting the gaze of the man who would be my husband. He was taller than I’d expected, his form outlined by a long, black coat that seemed to absorb the desert sun. His hair was as dark as a raven's wing, and long to his hip, and his eyes... his eyes were the color of the darkest coal ever. They held no warmth, no kindness, but a deep, unnerving intelligence. He wasn't monstrous in appearance, only in the stories that preceded him.

He looked at me, his gaze sweeping over my face, my simple traveling dress, and the way my hands were clasped so tightly they were turning white. He didn’t look at my brother or our entourage. He only looked at me.

"Is this the 'political chip' you spoke of, Prince Lucas?" he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur that somehow carried across the deck.

Lucas’s bravado faltered. "She is Princess Hazel of Coldborne, and she is the one you requested."

"I requested a bride," the Raven King corrected, stepping closer. I instinctively flinched, but he stopped, his gaze still fixed on me. "Not a girl who looks like she's about to be led to the gallows." He turned his attention back to Lucas, his voice hardening. "I thought I told you to treat my future queen with respect."

Lucas’s face went pale. "Your Majesty, I mean no disrespect. We are a… boisterous family. She is simply anxious about the journey."

The Raven King didn't reply to Lucas. Instead, he reached for my hand. I braced for a burning touch, a slap, or the kind of rough handling I was used to from Lucas. But his touch was gentle, his fingers wrapping around mine with a strange delicacy. The heat that came from him was not from a fire, but a steady warmth.

He tilted his head, his black eyes still on mine. "Don't fear me, my bride," he said, his voice surprisingly soft. "I don't bite... unless I have to." A flicker of something, a hint of a smile, touched the corner of his lips before vanishing.

He then pulled my hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss to my knuckles. It was a gesture of courtly respect that I had only ever read about in my novels. I felt my cheeks flush, and for a moment, the fluttering in my stomach felt more like excitement than fear.

"Welcome home, Princess Hazel," he said, and with that, he led me onto his ship. My brothers and my guards were left behind, and I had a sense that I was leaving behind not just them, but the chains of my past life in Coldborne.

"You'd better become a good wife, you worthless slut." I heard Lucas say, and with a flash, I felt my husband remove his hand from my own hand, and jumped from his ship, to the other.

The Coldborner soldiers drew their steel swords, made from Luther, the master of the blacksmith in the palace. The Darkmorner soldiers, also drew their swords; it was black, as a raven feather. The Raven King, didn't draw his sword, but instead, he grabbed Lucas by the throat.

"Drop your swords, or I snap your crown prince neck." He said, his once beautiful voice, laced with steel, and anger. Anger? why would he be angry, was it because Lucas was being rude? But why would he care/

"Drop your weapons" Lucas said, and to the King, he said."Fight me like a man"

The Darkmorre soldiers laughed out loud.

"If you wish" The King said, and drew his sword. The king sword is a two-handed longsword with a dark, metallic appearance. It has a distinctive raven motif, with the pommel and guard shaped like stylized raven claws or wings. The blade itself appears to be straight and double-edged. It was said that he got the sword, from the heart of a heating lava, and as I stared at it, I believed the lore.

My brother, also drew his great sword, a sword whose pommel is shaped with a wolf's head. I feared for my brother. He was a coward, and a fool, who couldn't fight. The only thing he could do was hurt women.

Lucas attacked, and the King side-stepped, using the pummel of his sword to struck his head.

"Damn you" Lucas yelled, and a fire ball, came to his hand. He threw it at the King, but the King dodged it, and Lucas kept throwing fireball at him. The king kept dodging it, with pure grace, it looked like he was dancing, and having fun. In a minute, I understand what he was doing. Lucas kept burning his energy, by using his element, and the King knew that. The king dodged the incoming fireball, and threw his sword to the sky. Why would he do that?

He somersaulted twice, and jumped in the air, then he landed, about five feet from Lucas, then the blade landed in his hand, and he pointed it at Lucas throat.

"Prince Hazel, would you like it if I killed him right now?" The king called. If he killed my brother, my father wouldn't call a war, because he wouldn't win it.

"No your majesty" I said, and walked to the other ship, where the small duel just happened.

"Well, I cant not leave him alone. What punishment would you like me to inflict on him?" He asked.

"No punishment my King" I replied.

"How about you inflict the punishment" I thought about that. That was a good idea, one that I would pay well for.

"I don't have to my King"

"I insist" the king said, and I couldn't resist.

"Slap him" The king said again. I walked to my brother, and looked his in the eye.

"You will regret this, you little w***e, I swear I----" He was cut off by a slap from me.

"The next time you call me a w***e, or slut, I would tell my King to cut off your hands, or legs, you understand." Lucas looked at me, with...fear.