chapter 1
The Kingdom of Noctara was not a place where kindness survived.
Power ruled.
Fear obeyed.
And mercy was considered weakness.
Nyra Ashvale learned that the moment the iron gates opened before her.
The slave wagon rolled through the capital city.
People lined the streets.
Some watched with curiosity.
Others with disgust.
None with sympathy.
Nyra sat quietly among the other slaves, her wrists bound by iron chains.
Her silver-gray eyes scanned the city.
Tall black towers.
Golden banners.
Armed guards at every corner.
Everything about Noctara screamed power.
A little girl beside her began crying.
"I want to go home..."
Nyra looked away.
Home no longer existed.
The village where she had grown up had been destroyed months ago.
Everything she knew had vanished in flames.
The wagon finally stopped.
"Move!"
A guard slammed the cage with his spear.
The slaves stumbled out one by one.
Nyra jumped down last.
The slave market was crowded.
Merchants shouted prices.
Nobles examined people like livestock.
The smell of sweat and fear filled the air.
Nyra clenched her fists.
She hated this place already.
"That one."
A merchant grabbed her arm.
Nyra immediately pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
The merchant blinked.
Then laughed.
The surrounding traders laughed too.
A slave talking back?
That was amusing.
The merchant's smile disappeared.
His hand struck her face.
Pain exploded across her cheek.
"Know your place."
Nyra slowly turned her head back toward him.
Her eyes burned with anger.
"I'd rather die."
The merchant's face darkened.
Several people nearby shook their heads.
This girl wouldn't survive long.
A slave with pride was a dead slave.
Hours passed.
Buyers came and went.
Several slaves were purchased.
Nyra remained.
Not because nobody wanted her.
Because she kept insulting anyone who approached.
An old noble asked if she could cook.
She told him to cook his own food.
A merchant asked if she could sew.
She told him she wasn't interested.
A noblewoman called her pretty.
Nyra told her she looked like a dried raisin.
The crowd stared.
The merchant nearly fainted.
What kind of slave behaved like this?
Then the crowd suddenly fell silent.
The market froze.
Even the guards straightened.
A chill swept through the square.
Nyra frowned.
"What now?"
No one answered.
A black carriage rolled into the market.
The royal crest decorated its side.
People immediately lowered their heads.
Fear appeared on every face.
The carriage door opened.
A tall man stepped out.
Black hair.
Cold silver eyes.
A long black coat embroidered with royal symbols.
The moment he appeared, the entire market felt colder.
Nyra noticed something strange.
Nobody dared look at him directly.
Not even the nobles.
"Who is that?" she whispered.
A nearby slave trembled.
"Th-The Crown Prince..."
Nyra raised an eyebrow.
Prince Zarek Nightbane.
The Heir of Darkness.
The most feared man in Noctara.
Zarek walked through the market without speaking.
The merchants bowed deeply.
Nobody dared meet his gaze.
Then his eyes stopped on Nyra.
Silence.
A long silence.
Nyra stared back.
Everyone else lowered their heads.
She didn't.
The prince's eyes narrowed.
The merchant nearly died from fear.
"Lower your head!" he hissed.
Nyra ignored him.
For several seconds, she and the prince simply stared at each other.
Then—
A small smirk appeared on Zarek's face.
It was not a pleasant smile.
It was the smile of a predator finding something interesting.
And for the first time in years...
Prince Zarek Nightbane was curious.
End of Chapter 1.
