Throughout the journey, I watched Davis besides me, his head tilted slightly, eyes closed, breathing steady. He shouldn't have been asleep.... not now, not with everything at stake. But there he was, calm as the night outside, as if the weight of his choices didn't exist, too calm for a man who had just decided to upend the laws that bound him. My fingers clenched against my lap. I was scared, my emotions shaken but why was he calm? How could he rest like that unless he had a plan... one that he hadn't shared with me ofcourse. The laws he was about to break, the risk he was taking.... all for what?. My chest tightened. Did he even understand what this meant? or worse ... did I? I began questioning.
I still couldn't process everything, especially the fact that I was going over the walls of the Kingdom, for the first time in my life ; my kingdom, that had abandoned both my parents and I, that denied me of my rights to be born and live in the same walls . My Kingdom Ravenvall...!
*
*
Ravenvall is a realm defined by its towering black stone walls, shadowy forests and ancient traditions that weigh heavily on its people. At it's heart lies the grand citadel, a fortress as imposing as it is magnificent, crowned with jagged spires that pierce the overcast sky.
Despite it's beauty and grandeur, Ravenvall is a Kingdom of harsh realities, where loyalty, obedience and sacrifice are demanded from all.
Ranvell rigid laws reflect a Kingdom that prioritizes order over compassion. Women are forbidden from holding titles or owning property, restricting their influence to their familial roles. A curfew enforced at dusk ensures strict control over public activity while those suffering from illness are exiled beyond city walls, just like my parents .... a measure deemed necessary to curb pandemics but one that breeds despair among the vulnerable.
"I need some air..." I gasped, and that seemed to shake him awake. Davis wasn't asleep. Panic clawed at my chest, my breaths coming in sharp, desperate bursts. My hands clutched at my chest, then the seats, anything to steady myself, but it didn't help. The world felt too small, too suffocating.
Then his hands were on mine, grounding me.
"Look at me, Linda, hey, Take a deep breath," he said, his voice calm, steady, but commanding. He held my hands, keeping just enough distance to let me breathe, yet close enough that I couldn't pull away entirely.
"Look at me... my eyes. Breathe, Linda. Just breathe... you're going to be fine" he insisted. Calm, patient, unshakable, while my tears streamed freely down my face, mingling with ragged gasps.
"Stop the carriage Eldric" He called out loud, his voice concerned.
When the carriage finally stopped, he cupped my face between his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheeks.
"You're going to be okay, you will be fine, just keep on breathing...."
"I can't do this, I don't think I can do this!" I cried but he didn't react. It felt like everything was pissing him off.
"Listen Linda, you need to be strong... strong for me..... I need you to be strong for the sake of the reign I am about to create... Can you promise me that? huh..." He demanded my answer.
"Are you serious right now Davis!.... I can't even breath ....."
"You're gonna be fine. I'm right here see" he grew convicing.
"your highness, perhaps...."
"Don't interrupt this Eldric!" His voice grew hoarse as he replied him.
"Please... I beg you... let me go." My voice trembled, barely more than a whisper. I was pleading, though deep down, I already knew, he wouldn't let me go.
"You're my person now," he said, voice low and edged with frustration. "You belong nowhere else but by my side. Do you hear me?"
His tone was cold, unyielding. It didn't soothe me, it suffocated me. The panic that had just begun to fade started to claw its way back up my throat.
"Please..." I whispered again, tears slipping free.
"Linda," he said, softer now but still firm, trying to rub the tears falling from my eyes
"don't make me be hard on you... I want you by my side, okay?"
But what was he saying? My chest felt tight again, my thoughts spinning into chaos. My past, the pain, the stories, the scars, echoed like screams inside my head. I wasn't ready for this. I didn't want titles or crowns or kingdoms; I wanted freedom. I just wanted to breathe the air that I can afford but he wasn't getting it and it furstrated me even more.
"Let me go!" I pushed against him, striking at his hands, desperate to break free.
"Please, let me go!" I cried, voice cracking, panic flooding my veins.
And then, suddenly, he shoved me back, hard, and stepped out of the carriage. The door slammed behind him with a sound that sliced through the air like final judgment.
I sat there, frozen, my heartbeat loud in the silence. The weight of it hit me all at once.
I was trapped.
Alone.
And somehow, I knew, this was the beginning of everything I feared.
Without a word he pulled a cigarette from his pockets, lighting it with a slow flick of his lighter. The glow of ember illuminated his face briefly, sharp and unyielding. Smoke curled around him as he exhaled, his back greeted me, a silent barrier that spoke louder than his refusal. I was done for!
"Your Highness!" Eldric called, rushing to catch up.
"Keep an eye on her... I need a moment," the prince replied, his voice calm but heavy with resolve.
"Yes, Your Highness... but it's not too late to change your mind. Please... think about this," Eldric urged, his brow furrowed with concern. He knew the danger this choice could bring, not just to the prince but to them both.
The prince inhaled deeply, letting the smoke curl lazily from his lips before blowing it into the air.
"Eldric... you've known me since I was ten. I don't make decisions lightly. I know what I'm doing... and there's no turning back on this." His gaze stayed on the sky, distant and unreadable.
Eldric exhaled, tension easing slightly but worry still in his stance. "As you wish, my Prince."
The prince straightened, shoulders squared, and turned toward the carriage waiting at his side.
"Just focus on the journey ahead. It might take two days to reach the Kingdom. Keep the pace steady."
"I'll make it before midnight tomorrow," Eldric said, his tone firm but respectful, matching the urgency of the task.
"In that case, we need to stop by the royal tailor first. Measure her official regalia..... they'll sew it overnight. I want her perfectly neat by morning," the prince added, his eyes glinting with a mixture of determination and... something softer, almost anticipation.
"As you wish, Your Highness. I'll wait while you finish your break," Eldric said, bowing slightly.
Davis flicked the ash from his cigarette, then gave the tiniest smile, a flicker of something private, almost human. "Ah... I'm done here. Let's go."
He straightened fully, shoulders back, every movement commanding yet deliberate as he find his way inside the carriage, the weight of responsibility and purpose evident in the quiet strength of his stride.
The gates of Ravenvall creaked open as midnight draped its shroud across the kingdom. The air was colder than Davis remembered, sharp and hollow, carrying the scent of iron and stone. Torches flared weakly against the walls, casting wavering shadows that danced upon the cobblestones. Each step he took echoed through the stillness, boots scraping softly against the ground, while a dozen pairs of eyes followed him, guards, servants, and figures half-hidden in darkness.
But not him.
The King was nowhere to be seen.
Davis had expected to find his father standing at the gates, tall, proud, resolute, waiting with the royal robe in hand to drape it over his shoulders as tradition demanded. It was the mark of a prince's return, a symbolic restoration of his place in the royal line. Yet, instead, another figure awaited him.
Queen Rahel.
Her gown shimmered faintly beneath the torchlight, but her eyes were cold, sharp, unyielding. Nothing about her had changed in all those years. Even the smile that curved her lips lacked warmth, it was the same calculated grace she wore like armor. In her hands, the royal robe seemed less a symbol of honor and more a reminder of everything Davis had lost.
"Prince Davis," she said coolly, her tone measured, her gaze unflinching. "Welcome back home."
Home. The word rang hollow in his chest. Davis's eyes drifted past her, searching the shadows for any sign of his father. But he already knew. The tightening of her smile told him everything.
"The King had other matters to attend to," she said, feigning nonchalance. "He specifically asked me to welcome you on his behalf."
His jaw tightened. Of course, his father had other matters. The same man who had sent him away to "protect" his lineage couldn't even face him now. After fifteen long years, he was still unwelcome in his own kingdom.
Swallowing his pride, Davis turned slightly, calling Eldric closer. He leaned in and whispered discreetly, his voice low enough to escape the Queen's notice.
"Have them prepare her a bath in my chambers. Find her something warm to wear and move an extra bed into my changing room. Quickly, Eldric."
"Yes, Your highness," Eldric replied, bowing deeply before hurrying off.
Davis let his gaze return to the Queen, the robe still in her hands.
"Give it to me," he said, his tone a command rather than a request.
"Prince Davis..... " she began, but he had already snatched it from her grasp.
The fabric was heavier than he expected. It seemed to carry the weight of his exile, his shame, his mother's death. Without another word, he turned and strode past her, his footsteps echoing through the dim corridors of Ravenvall Keep.
When he reached his chambers, he pushed the doors open. Dust rose in the air like ghosts stirred from slumber. The faint scent of parchment and old wood lingered, untouched by time. Everything remained as it had been, dark wooden furniture, a green-canopied bed, shelves lined with books that once anchored his boyhood dreams.
He tossed the robe onto the bed and stood still, staring at it. For years, he had imagined this moment, returning, reclaiming what was his, but now it felt empty, meaningless.
Then came the sound of footsteps.
Queen Rahel stood in the doorway, her expression taut with contempt. "Do you have any idea what it cost him to bring you back here?" she asked, her voice edged with disdain.
Davis turned slowly, fists clenching at his sides. "Cost? Don't speak to me of cost," he said, his tone rising with restrained fury. "My mother's life was the price of your ambition. You couldn't bear to see me live, so you made sure I was sent away. And now you hate me for returning, because your son is no longer here."
Her face darkened, the mask of poise cracking. "You dare speak of my son?" she hissed. "He was the rightful heir. Your mother had no place here, and neither did you."
"Yet here I am," Davis said quietly, meeting her glare.
"You returned only to take my son's place," she spat. "And you think that does not wound me?"
"I lost my mother too," Davis answered coldly. "I suppose we're even."
Her eyes flared. "We are not even! You will never belong here. Your mother was a shadow, a stain upon this court, and you stand here wanting to wear the crown meant for my son?" She let out a bitter laugh. "You are nothing like him. You will never be approved by the people, nor by your father. You will always be the illegitimate son. That is the only title you can claim."
For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them.
Then Davis spoke, voice low but unyielding. "I don't need to be given the throne you know... it is simply mine. But now that you mention, I can't wait to see the look on your face when the people themselves handles me the crown."
Her lips curled, but her eyes were venom. "The people? You have no people. No one here bows to you, nor ever will."
She turned sharply, her gown sweeping across the floor as she left. The door closed with a hollow thud, her footsteps fading into the long corridor beyond.
For a moment, the chamber was still. The flickering candlelight wavered against the walls, long shadows bending with his movements.
Davis stood alone, her words echoing in his mind, each syllable cutting deeper than a blade. His breath quickened, his chest burning with fury that refused to be silenced. He began to pace, every step a tremor of the rage clawing its way to the surface.
Then, his eyes caught his reflection in the tall mirror near the window, a man torn between pain and wrath. His vision blurred. The storm within him broke loose.
With a roar that tore through the silence, his fist lashed out. The mirror shattered, glass exploding into a thousand fragments that rained across the floor. Pain struck a second later, dull and throbbing, blood trickling down his knuckles in thin crimson lines.
He stared at the fractured reflection before him, splintered, twisted, unrecognizable.
And then, as the weight of it all pressed down, Prince Davis sank to his knees, surrounded by shards of glass and silence.
His return to Ravenvall had begun in blood..
Then he heard movements
Soft footsteps, hesitant but deliberate. He turned sharply, his pulse still roaring in my ears. Soft footsteps, hesitant but deliberate. I stepped from behind the heavy curtains, the faint light brushing across my face. My heart pounded so loudly I could almost hear it echo in the chamber. He turned sharply, Prince Davis, his eyes burning with something between fury and pain.
"Davis!..." The name slipped from my lips before I could think. My voice trembled as I rushed toward him.
He was hurt. His hand was bleeding, knuckles torn, the shards of a shattered mirror scattered like fallen stars at his feet. I fell to my knees beside him, my fingers trembling as I took his hand in mine. His skin was warm, slick with blood.
"You're hurt," I whispered, pressing his hand between my palms.
He didn't answer. He only stared, his gaze distant, broken, while I tore a strip of fabric from my sleeve, heedless of how high it tore, almost to my thigh. The cold air touched my bare skin, but I didn't care. I pressed the cloth against his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
"You shouldn't have done that..."
"She's right, you know," he interrupted, voice low, rough. "I don't belong here."
His words hit me like a stone.
I looked up at him, and for a fleeting moment, everything around us, the flickering candles, the silence of the hall, the weight of the night, faded into nothing. All I could see was him. His eyes, dark and wounded, holding a softness buried deep beneath all that anger.
"Don't say that," I whispered, my brow furrowing.
"You belong more than anyone else," I told him, the words coming from a place I didn't know I had. "Don't let her words define you. You're going to make a great King. You just have to focus on what you can do, you're going to make a great King."
But before he could reply, the door burst open.
Two servants and Eldric rushed in, eyes widening at the sight of shattered glass and blood. He was on his knees, trembling, tears streaking his face. My heart clenched at the sight of him so fragile, so human beneath the crown that would one day weigh on his head.
I rose slightly and pulled the royal robe from the bed, wrapping it around him with trembling hands.
"Leave us, Eldric," I said, surprising even myself with how steady my voice sounded. "Take the servants with you."
Eldric hesitated, but I could see the understanding in his eyes. I was his right hand, the one trusted to be at his side. He bowed.
"I will be at the door, Your Highness, if you need me," he said before withdrawing. The door closed softly behind them.
The silence that followed was deafening.
I turned back to Davis, kneeling before him once more. I reached up, brushing the tears from his face with my thumb. His skin was warm against my fingertips, his breath uneven. There was something in his eyes, something so fragile and familiar, that made my chest tighten.
For years, I had fought through life with my head held high and my heart locked away. I had known hunger, the kind that eats at your bones. I had slept in corners of cold stone halls, worked through nights without rest, endured whispers and glances that stripped my dignity away piece by piece. I had been touched only by struggle and survival, never by kindness, never by warmth.
But now... here he was.
The Prince.
His face.... strong yet weary, jawline carved with quiet defiance, lips trembling between pride and pain. His eyes... those eyes. I'd seen storms calm faster than the tempest they held. But deep in them, there was a gentleness that could undo me entirely. He wasn't just a prince to me, not in that moment. Beneath the weight of his duty, beneath the crown and the scars of exile, he was just a man.
And for the first time in my life, I felt safe.
I wrapped my arms around him, held him close, my hand patting his back in slow, careful circles. His heartbeat thudded against my chest, slow, uneven, real. The warmth of him seeped into me, filling the cold, empty places I had carried for years.
"You don't have to bear this alone," I whispered into his shoulder. "You've been hurt enough."
Something in him broke then, I could feel it. His body trembled as though the walls he'd built were finally giving way. And when he lifted his head, his face was so close to mine, his breath brushing my lips, that I forgot how to breathe.
"I will be your person," I murmured, voice barely a breath. "I will be one of your people. I get it now..."
Our eyes met, his, searching, mine, surrendering. The distance between us melted away.
And then his lips found mine.
It was soft at first, hesitant, unsure. My first kiss. A moment I had never dared to dream of, yet one that felt like it had been written somewhere beyond time. His lips were warm, trembling with everything he couldn't say. I felt my heart flutter, my breath falter. The world around us dissolved into silence.
When his hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, the air between us burned. Every part of me wanted to stay there, to live in that fleeting warmth. For the first time, I wasn't just surviving, I was alive.
But then he pulled away.
Abruptly.
The spell shattered.
He turned from me, his voice cold, distant, like the slam of a door I couldn't open.
"You overstepped," he said. "You shouldn't have done that!"
The words struck harder than any blade could.
He spoke again, his tone like frost biting through my skin, commands, not words. I stood still, frozen, shame wrapping around me like chains. My lips still tingled from the kiss, but my heart ached as if it had been ripped open.
"You can go to sleep!, Nothing happened here tonight" he continued. "You were never here. You heard nothing"
I tried to speak, but confusion was allover my face.
My throat tightened. I wanted to speak, to tell him that I hadn't meant to overstep, that I only wanted to ease his pain.
"Davis, I was just trying.... "
"I didn't ask you to do anything! Your duty is to serve when told, nothing more. Don't mistake your place."
The warmth that had filled the room moments ago turned to ice. His words cut through me, cold and deliberate.
"I am the future King, and you're my right hand woman" he said, his back still turned. " "Do not ever throw yourself to me. You are not the kind of woman I can covet, Do you understand."
My breath caught in my chest. The piece of my sleeve I'd torn earlier hung loose against my thigh, a reminder of my foolish tenderness. I smoothed my dress with trembling hands, gathering the fragments of my dignity.
"Understood," I managed, my voice steady though something inside me had cracked.
I turned and walked toward the changing room, every step heavy, deliberate, each one echoing like a fading heartbeat. I didn't cry, not yet. The shame, the ache, the hollow space his words left behind, they would come later.
For now, I could only hold on to the ghost of that warmth, to the memory of the man beneath the crown, the one who, for a fleeting moment, had made me feel something I had never known before,what it meant to be seen.
And as I reached the door, I knew that moment would haunt me forever.