Page 2 of Dreams of Ash and Smoke

The day after will be our wedding and my coronation the day after that.

It will be a long ten days.

“Where are we with the decorations? Did you alert everyone of the colors I asked you to get?” I ask the young lady as we walk through the halls hastily. I eye the surrounding decor, noting the floral arrangements and banners.

She looks at me quickly before turning her face to the floor, her eyes wide. “Uhm, I- Dryston wanted-” My fingers wrap around her arm gently before stopping in our tracks, my eyes wide, grazing around the area to make sure we are alone.

“You will refer to your future king as His Majesty or Prince Dryston. Youwill not disrespect his title again, do you understand?” While the words are firm, my tone hushed yet urgent.

Even the slightest mention of his name sends a shiver down my spine, knowing if he heard her, he’d be filled with silent rage. I still bear the scars from the time he punished me for calling out to him by name, a reminder of his possessive nature. It seems that all he desires is for me to acknowledge him as the dominant one, to only speak of him with reverence until our marriage was official. Another shiver runs through me at the thought of being bound to this wild and unpredictable man for eternity.

She nods profusely, apologies added in too, before we continue our walk to the throne room.

The royal family was small but powerful, ruled by the mighty King Tarius and his beautiful queen, Rya. Rya, with her regal grace and sickly green eyes, had birthed two children — her firstborn son, strong and determined like his father, and her daughter Lianna, with her mother’s delicate features and fiery spirit. Together, they are the shining stars of the kingdom, their legacy destined to endure for generations to come. Although, mostly everyone is scared of Rya. She has a very demanding presence and her relationship with Dryston was excruciatingly nauseating.

Rya mourned her husband’s passing with little emotion. However, she took on the temporary responsibility of ruling the country until her eldest was officially crowned. Although the people of Dawn may not like her, the High Fae are well aware of her subtly cunning ways. The court members fear her, knowing she was not truly wicked but rather manipulative and self-centered, with strong greed and narcissistic tendencies.

As we made our entrance, Mya follows etiquette and stays behind me, allowing me to take the lead. My eyes scan the grand hall, taking in the regal figures sitting upon thrones adorned with jewels and gold. The prince sits confidently on his father’s throne, his posture exuding power and authority. His queen mother sits gracefully on her own throne beside him, her gaze shifting between her son and me. I curtsy before the prince, feeling a twinge of nervousness as his piercing chartreuse eyes study me intently. He then turns his attention to my companion, Mya, causing asubtle tension to form between them. Or perhaps it’s just my own insecurities that made it seem that way. Either way, there was an undeniable sense of unease in the air.

I am not the prettiest female in Zorya, let alone the entire continent, — as I’m constantly reminded of by the future king— but I found I quite like myself and how I look. I stand tall, my stained jet-black hair falling in smooth waves down my back. My bright indigo eyes sparkle with determination and a hint of mischief. The bridge of my nose was slender and delicate, matching the smallness of my ears with their subtle points at the tips. Years of secret training with my guard, Hadeon, had honed my body into a perfect balance of strength and grace. My muscles are lean but defined, hidden beneath the slimness of my frame. I take pride in my appearance, confident in my own beauty, though it seems that Dryston often finds fault with me.

I watch as he navigates the intricate political landscape alongside his mother, his features strikingly similar to hers. He possesses her golden locks of hair and light green eyes. As a member of the fae community, Dryston stands out as one of the tallest and most robust males on this side of the border. His broad shoulders and well-defined muscles spoke of his strength and stature within society.

During our childhood, we spent countless hours playing together. But my mother always had a wary eye on him, her face twists with disapproval. I never understood what it was that she saw in him, but her sudden death left it lingering on my mind. It wasn’t until my first punishment from him that I began to see the darkness that my mother saw. Where once he was carefree and easy-going, now there was a coldness in his eyes and a cruelty in his actions. Every time I did something that displeased him, a punishment would swiftly follow, leaving me trembling and fearful of what he might become.

Standing steadfast beside me, my guard dons his distinguished green royal armor. His dark chestnut hair cascades over his broad shoulders, framing his chiseled features and dark hazel eyes.

Hadeon is my trusted personal royal guard. He was hand-picked by Tarius to protect me when I was just twenty years old, after he saved my life froman attempted assassination. Hadeon had recently completed the rigorous training program for royal guards before being assigned to me, and I’ve been grateful for his presence ever since. Through our constant companionship, we have developed a strong friendship that extends beyond our duties.

Hadeon never spoke of my punishments, but sometimes when I look at him I can’t be sure he actually knows. He didn’t know us when we were younger.

He was a formidable figure, with a towering height and bulging muscles that Dryston had always resented in comparison to his own stature. Despite this, Hadeon remains unbothered by the prince’s jealousy, focusing solely on protecting and serving his charge with unwavering dedication and loyalty.

I thought it was humorous.

The prince’s voice cuts through the air like a sharp blade, silencing the entire room. I stand tall under his intense gaze, feeling the weight of his expectations bearing down on me. “Verena,” he addresses me with a cold tone, “how are the decorations coming? You know how crucial this coronation is.”

My heart races as I curtsy in front of him, trying to stay composed. “Everything is proceeding smoothly, Your Majesty,” I reply my eyes darting to Mya for support. But she remains silent, her lips pressing together in a tight line.

His eyes burn into mine with a look that can only be described as contempt. I know that he was overwhelmed and stressed, but that doesn’t make his stare any less unsettling. “Keep my mother and I updated on everything,” he commands before dismissing the court.

As we all disperse and go about our duties, I can’t shake off the unease that settles in my stomach at the prince’s harsh demeanor. This coronation is more than just important to him — it seems to be a matter of life and death for our kingdom. And I can’t help but fear what consequences will follow if anything goes wrong with the preparations.

* **

Hadeon follows as he usually does while I carefully made my way to all the castle halls and rooms that guests will be staying in during the coronation, and the events leading up to it, to make sure the decorations are up as they should be. It was a lot of work but I know that he will be happy with it all. All the colors came in and the staff started on everything else.

At the end of the day, I was completely worn out. Hadeon slept across the hall from me and retires to his chambers as soon as I did mine.

I treat myself to a bath, adding the special scent. The soapmaster in the city makes it just for me, calling it Pinkberry Clouds.

After soaking for a moment, I ran some of the scented soap through my hair, washing away any sweat and dirt before washing my body too.

When the water went chilly, I deem it the end and stand up to dry off with a light pink fluffy rag the size of my body and made my way to the bed.

Sometimes, Dryston would visit me uninvited and I’d allow my mind to wander back to the colorful night sky of my dreams to block out his time in my bed and scrub myself raw of his scent after before curling into myself with tears streaming down my face. Sooner or later a new maid or towns person will catch his eye and he seems to be done with me.

Until he grows bored of her.

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