Chapter 1
1511 Words
Valerie POV
“Mummy?”
The word left me before I could stop it—small, fragile, and already too late.
I stepped forward anyway, as though the distance between us could still be closed, as though she might stir if I only got close enough. But she didn’t. She lay still as they carried her, her body wrapped and unmoving, her face untouched by breath or warmth.
My vision blurred, tears slipping free, cold against my skin until there were none left to fall. Still, I followed.
I followed as they lifted her into the carriage, as if hope could be dragged behind me like a shadow. I waited—for a hand to twitch, for a voice to call my name, for anything at all.
Nothing came.
“Wipe those tears, child.”
The voice cut cleanly through the silence.
I turned. A black veil softened the edges of her face, but not the severity beneath it. My grandmother stood still, her gaze fixed ahead, her expression carved from something harder than grief.
“You are a queen now, Valerie,” she said. “And queens do not cry.”
The horses shifted, hooves striking against stone. The sound echoed too loudly, too final. Something inside me tightened.
“Your mother is dead,” she continued, her voice low, unyielding. “And your father will not remain alone for long.” The words settled heavily, sinking deeper than I could follow.
“Thankfully,” she added, at last glancing down at me, “the Blackfyre Empire recognizes you as the rightful heir.”
Her gaze held mine then—steady, unblinking.
“When you marry Crown Prince Devon Blackfyre, you will not simply be a queen.” A pause. “You will become, empress.”
{13 years later}
Grandmother's words still echoed behind my ears.
They clung to me as I stood before the mirror, as I lifted my hand to the necklace resting against my throat, as I searched the reflection for something familiar and found less of it each time I looked.
My twentieth birthday.
Everything had been arranged with careful precision—the festivals, the tournaments, the court, all waiting to witness what I was becoming.
And him.
The last time I saw Devon, he had placed a red rose in my hand, its petals soft, almost delicate against my skin. He smiled then, warm, certain and told me he would return.
He had.
The doors burst open behind me, and the maids swept in like a tide of silk and soft footsteps.
“Good morning, Queen Valerie.”
Their voices rose together, light and practiced.
“Elise,” one of them stepped forward, her eyes bright as they settled on me, “the necklace suits you. The Crown Prince will be pleased.”
A smile touched my lips before I could stop it, small and fleeting.They brought the corset next.
Dark red, threaded with black, its design sharp and deliberate. The colors of House Blackfyre.
“Hold still, my queen.”
I did, the first pull was gentle.
The second was not.
The laces tightened, inch by inch, drawing the fabric closer, pressing it firmly against my ribs. I felt it in the way my breath shortened, in the way my chest rose but never quite filled. Another pull, more precise this time, and the air slipped from me before I could hold onto it.
“Too tight?” someone asked softly.
The answer caught somewhere beneath the weight of it all.
“No.”
The word came anyway.
They continued, their hands steady, practiced. The corset shaped me slowly, deliberately, until I stood straighter without meaning to, my shoulders drawn back, my waist pulled inward until the girl in the mirror began to shift into something else.
Something sharper. More contained.
The beads along the bodice pressed lightly into my skin, a constant reminder with every breath I was allowed to take.
“Almost done.”
I watched myself change. The softness I remembered seemed distant now, replaced by something composed, something distant enough to feel untouchable.
A crown was brought forward.
The metal was cool as it settled against my head, its weight light but undeniable. It caught the light immediately, framing my face in something brighter.
I swallowed carefully, testing the limits of the breath I had left. The girl in the mirror did not falter. She stood still, perfectly poised, perfectly shaped—as though she had always belonged there.
Jewels whispered softly with each step I took, their faint rhythm following me through the halls. The palace seemed to part before me; heads bowed as I passed, smiles carefully placed and measured.
I did not stop, not until I reached the door.
My hand lingered against it for a moment. Then I pushed it open.
The smell of herbs and medicine filled the room, and there she was. Lying on the bed, weak and fragile. Staring out to the window.
“Grandmother.” I called out.
“My lovely granddaughter.” She replied with a smile across her face.
“You look just like your mother, except you have your father's eyes.”
I moved towards the side of the bed, clutching her hands.
“How are you faring up?”
“I've seen worse.” She replied, a dry cough escaping her mouth.
She tightened her hold on my hands.
“Do you hear that?”
The sound of drums and trumpets, jubilations of people outside.
“They celebrate you, their queen. The backings of the masses, you need that. The empire lacks that, because it is a power you cannot force.”
She pulled herself up from the bed, her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Their cursed blood grants them power to use the darkness to commit as many atrocities as they want, but we dear child, bear dawn fire blood, the fire of the Phoenix. They may rule us for now but soon their darkness will consume all of them.”
My chest tightened.
“Are they… really all the same?”
My grandmother's glare cut through my skin.
“Their blood is evil, they're the spawn of the devil… do not pity them.”
I looked away, my eyes darting around the room.
“Then why do I marry one of them?”
“A sacrifice for the greater good, a path an empress must take.” She faced my head back to her and pulled up my chin.
“One that hurts me more than you know my dear.”
Deep inside I refused to believe, my crown Prince could never be a monster. His smile, his soft eyes.
They can't all be monsters… right?
“The king arrives!” An announcer says from outside. My smile vanished, my grandmother laid back down as I stood to my feet.
The moment he walked in, his eyes scanned the room. The crown almost perfectly seated on his bald head. His robe was white, with a Phoenix inscribed on the chest, a symbol of house Vealmar.
“Father.” I slightly bent my head.He responded without even looking.
“Daughter.” His voice rid of emotions.
“How is your health?” His attention fully turned to grandmother.
“I'm still alive, if that's what you mean.”
He rolls his eyes before finally glancing at me, his own daughter. My fingers sunked deep into my palm as I stared at him.
“You chose to wear their colors today, I see.” He said, looking down at my dress.
“I’m surprised you noticed.” I respond barely letting the words leave his mouth. His lips parted to speak, eyes softening for a bit, but he held it back.
Suddenly, the music outside halts. The crowd goes silent, could it be that they've arrived?
The Blackfyre, prince Devon.
A guard bursts in, panting, sweat slided down from his head.
“My king, Prince Regent Devon has arrived.”
A smile slipped free before I could stop it, bright and reckless. My fingers tugged the corset tighter as I moved, barely bothering to fix it properly. I hurried out of the room, the sound of my father calling my name chasing after me, but I didn’t slow down.
My heartbeat climbed, loud and unsteady in my chest, as if it were urging me forward. The wind caught my hair the moment I stepped outside, pulling it back in wild strands, matching the rush building inside me.
“Careful my queen.” The maids screamed from behind me.
After so many years, I'm finally going to see him again.
My heels slipped out of my feet, the feel of the cold floor against my toes. I didn't stop– Until it finally came to view– the Blackfyre entourage.
I stopped at the stairs, where the nobles gathered just below. My heart pounding, with lungs gasping for air.But that didn't matter to me, cause after so long he finally came back to me… just like he promised.
- Writer
