Page 4 of White Raven

He was in my face before I could even suck in a breath.

“Do not forget who you are. What you represent.” His voice spat with quiet anger. “What I’ve done for you. Your duty is to me. You do as I say.” He stabbed his fingers into his breastbone. “I will keep you safe no matter what, whether it makes you happy or not. Do you understand me?”

Fighting to keep the tears from showing in my eyes, I nodded my head, my teeth clenching. I knew it all too well. It had been ingrained in me since the time I could remember.

The king watched me for a moment, noting my trembling chin, still raised in strength. Royal. Strong. Never bowing.

He leaned back, exhaling slowly, his finger pressing into his brows. “I’m sorry, Wren.” He let out another calming breath. “You know I’m only doing this because I must. If the Night Ravens come here and are able to capture the White Raven? We must do everything in our power to prevent that. Do you understand what is at stake?”

Growing up, I learned about the seers’ foretelling on the day of the battle that ripped our world apart. Their runes covered in the enemies’ blood; they spoke of one with noble blood who would possess magic. The child’s power would blossom on their nineteenth birthday. They would heal the land and reunite the clans, breaking the curse locking us here.

King Gavric was not married, nor ever took a queen, while King Vorian and Queen Elsara tried for a long, long time to conceive. Their sorrow each time she suffered a miscarriage tore at them until she got pregnant over eighteen years ago. And no one doubted, when the queen finally delivered a child, a girl, that she was the one the seers prophesied. Even more so when Elsara died in childbirth, verifying to the people that the baby girl held exceptional power.

Wrennlyn Stallard was their savior.

It was why my father was determined to keep the White Raven safe. I was looked upon as a savior, and my father’s rightful reign to rule this land with me at his side.

And why I didn’t understand the change of heart now.

“You can keep me safer here. You have an army!”

“Wrennlyn.” He gritted his teeth. “Do not question my motives. You know how barbaric and bloodthirsty the Northerners are.”

Yes, I’d been told about Night Ravens’ cruelty and hate. They tortured and killed Day Ravens for fun.

“If they attack here and there is even a chance they found the White Raven . . .” He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing. “Marrying you to Blaxhall is for the best. They can protect you. Hide you.”

I blinked at him. “Blaxhall?” I barely recalled that name, but I knew it was a noble family from Snowfern, a village in the southernmost part of our domain. It was where blacksmiths worked to produce weapons for the kingdom under the Blaxhall clan. We hadn’t had a war since the one which split us into three territories, but my father was always ready. There was too much tension and history between the Night and Day Kingdoms not to be prepared for a raid. “Isn’t he old?”

“Miika is younger than me.” The king chuckled when I lifted my brow. “Don’t worry. His eldest son, Brynden, is twenty-four.” He watched me, his shoulders lowering. “Believe me. I don’t like you being away from me either, out of my protection. But I will set decoys in place, letting the enemy believe you and your new husband are still here, while they protect you and your handmaidens somewhere safe.”

I could not say no. This was my duty.

“Very well.” I swallowed. The thought of leaving my home burned my nose with emotion. “Maybe I can return when the threat is over?”

Father’s lips pulled into a slight smile, his head nodding. “You are strong, Wrennlyn. You can handle anything.” His knuckles brushed over my cheek; a rare moment of fondness warmed the king’s eyes. “I made sure of that.” He let his hand drop to his side and cleared his throat. “The Blaxhall clan is arriving later today for the engagement ceremony. Your handmaidens have been made aware of the plans and are ready for you.”

“This is happening now?” I squeaked, anxiety gripping my chest, my hand fluttering at my neck. This had already been planned and agreed upon. I was just the last to know.

“Yes. The sooner the better. The wedding will be in two days’ time.” His mouth pinched, seeing the signs of my anxiety attack. His disapproval of this flaw in me had me taking in gulps of air, willing myself to stop my shaking hands. “Elvina is aware of everything and is waiting for you right now.”

Why Elvina had been so keen on retrieving me from training.

“You’re not married . . . yet.” Sarina’s words returned to me.

Did all my handmaidens know what my future was before I did, even Sarina? Why wouldn’t she tell me? Warn me what was coming?

“By the looks of it, you better get going.” Father observed what I was wearing, the mess of my attire and hair.

“Yes, sir.” I dipped my head. Giving Iskald’s head a last pat, I headed for the door, trying to hold in my emotion until I was out of his sight. He did not have a fondness for tears and weakness. Not from me.

A pained choke welled in my throat as I closed his chamber door, my eyes blurring, not seeing clearly in front of me. My foot hooked on a pail the moment I took a full step, tripping over a man crouched down, scrubbing at the mud I had trampled into the white rugs.

“Faen!” I stumbled, catching myself before I fell, taking in the dark hair and olive skin, which stood out like ink on blank paper.

A Northerner.

A Night Raven.