Ashes of the Crown
Chapter 1 – The Gown She Would Burn
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The gown was suffocating.
Silk laced so tight around Seris Ilith's ribs that every breath tasted like surrender. Maids fluttered around her like pale birds, pinning gold into her hair, smoothing trembling hands down the front of the dress — the one she would wear when she was given away like a trinket.
"Your collarbone is perfect when you don't frown," said Lady Orla, her cousin, adjusting a pearl. "Try to look grateful."
Grateful.
Seris turned her face toward the mirror. The girl who stared back was beautiful — sharp-boned, solemn, silken as the court demanded.
But behind her eyes, something coiled. Not fear. Not yet.
Fury.
"You'll be Queen Consort within a year," Orla whispered. "All you have to do is smile."
Seris didn't answer. She didn't trust her voice not to scream.
Outside the window, bells rang in celebration — not of her love, but of her usefulness. A strategic bond between houses. A deal struck in shadows. Her father had made it clear: this marriage would secure the eastern border.
She'd met her groom twice. Lord Alric. He smiled like a wolf and smelled like wine.
And still—Kael hadn't come.
Her guard. Her shadow. Her dangerous secret.
He'd been reassigned from her chamber door this morning. No explanation. No goodbye.
Did he know what this day meant?
Did he remember the night she'd pressed her hand to his, just once, in the darkness of the garden? The night she'd nearly kissed him?
Her heart beat faster. And for a second, she imagined it—
What if he stormed the ceremony? What if he took her hand and ran?
She closed her eyes.
No. That wasn't the kind of story girls like her got to live.
A knock.
A maid poked her head in, cheeks flushed. "My lady… it's time."
Seris rose.
The gown shimmered in the candlelight. She walked like a statue carved for sacrifice.
And in the silence between her footsteps, she made herself a promise:
If no one comes to save me—
…I'll save myself.