Heir of Ashes

Chapter 1 : Sunlight and Shadows

Adena POV

(18 year old Adena Memories)

I remember the way the sunlight felt that day—soft, warm, golden. The kind of light that makes you believe life will always be gentle with you.

Dominiq held my hand as we wandered through the royal gardens, the roses in full bloom, their scent drifting around us like a promise. We were young then. Younger than we should’ve been for the words heavy on our shoulders.

Promised since birth.

Raised for each other.

Destined, everyone said.

An alliance was made when we were born. Two sets of twins. Two kingdoms tied together. It was supposed to be perfect. Fate, they called it.

And maybe that’s why I believed in it so easily.

Dominiq let go of my hand just long enough to pluck a red rose from the nearest bush. He turned and tucked it behind my ear with a smile that made my heart swell. We might have been chosen for each other, but I feel like I couldn’t have chosen any better. Just like my parents, I had thought it was love at first sight. Our parents had arranged for us to meet for tea, that first time, just something short. The four of us immediately gravitated towards each other. There wasn’t even any competition. Dominiq immediately locked eyes with me and Enrique immediately moved towards my twin sister Ava. Our parents were worried that both of us would be interested in the same brother or the other way around.

It is my eyes that made me different, it made me stand out. After all, they have a kaleidoscope of color: Red, purple, blue and green. All the kingdoms of Gemcrest shining from my eyes

“Adena,” he said softly, “Just because we were promised to each other since birth doesn’t mean this can’t be special.” My breath caught when he suddenly lowered himself to one knee on the garden path, sunlight catching in his blonde hair. He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it. Inside lay a diamond ring—simple, dazzling, perfect.

He looked up at me like I was the only thing that had ever mattered. I was so nervous about him. I avoided the topic for so long the idea of marrying a stranger seemed so wrong I wanted romance. Then I met him, his deep green eyes had mesmerized me. My young teenage heart racing. We were thrown together as often as our parents could manage since that day two weeks ago.

“Will you take me as your King?” he asked, his voice trembling with sincerity.

I felt tears sting my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered, then laughed through the emotion, “Yes, I’ll be your Queen.”

He slipped the ring onto my finger, and when he rose, he kissed me—sweet, soft, hopeful. We were alone in the garden, alone in our world, and for the first time, I believed our arranged fate could be something beautiful — even better than what my parents had.

---

The wedding came weeks later, all roses, gold and laughter. I stood beside him, trembling in silk, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all—marriage, a future, a life that had been decided before we were even born. And yet when he touched my hand, everything inside me settled.

We danced until our feet ached. We toasted until my cheeks hurt from smiling. When the night finally quieted, and we found ourselves alone again, he brushed a stray curl from my forehead and spoke softly.

“Adena,” he murmured, “I know this life was planned for us, but I’ve never been this happy. I promise to always love you,” I giggled, teasing him. “I love you too, silly boy.”

“Really?” He grinned, pulling me closer. “You promise you’ll always love me?”

“With all my heart,” I whispered.

And gods, I meant it. I truly did.

---

The memory snaps like a string in my chest.

I’m no longer standing in a garden. No longer bathed in sunlight. No longer touching the hand of a boy who loved me with more innocence than either of us understood.

I’m sitting in front of a mirror.

The Castle vanity glows with warm bulbs, but the face staring back at me feels like it belongs to a stranger. My hand trembles as I dab concealer beneath my eye. The bruise is deep—ugly purple blooming beneath the surface, impossible to ignore.

I press foundation over it. Then powder. Then more foundation. I know how to hide his indiscretions…all of them.

I can hide the physical marks, but nothing can take away the ache behind my ribs. My heart has been broken for a long time.

A tear slips down my cheek, landing near the collar of my dress. I brush it away before it reaches the fabric. Tears leave stains. Tears raise questions. Tears are dangerous.

“I will always love you,” he had promised.

“Always,” I had answered.

I just didn’t know this is what loving him would cost me.