The iron carriage moved fast. It did not have smooth wheels like the royal carriages in the city. Every time it hit a rock, Celeste bounced on the hard bench. The metal walls were cold. There were no windows, only small slits near the top. Very little light came inside.
Celeste sat in the dark. She was still wearing the black funeral dress. It was heavy and itchy. She held the green ribbon from Elara tightly in her hand. It was the only soft thing she had left.
Suddenly, a small door in the front of the carriage opened. A woman crawled inside. She was a demon maid. She had gray skin and small, sharp yellow teeth. She was carrying a large box and a bucket of water.
"Stop crying," the maid said. Her voice sounded like rocks rubbing together. "You look like a mess. The King does not want a messy bride."
"Where are we going?" Celeste asked. Her voice was shaking.
"To the border," the maid said. "But first, we must fix you. You look like a dead bird."
The maid did not wait for Celeste to say anything. She grabbed the front of Celeste's funeral dress and pulled. The thin fabric ripped easily. Celeste gasped and tried to cover herself with her arms.
"Don't be shy," the maid laughed. "I have seen many girls. None of them were as skinny as you. Don't the angels feed their princesses?"
The maid took a wet cloth from the bucket. The water was freezing cold. She scrubbed Celeste's skin hard. She scrubbed her face, her arms, and her legs. She was not gentle. She acted like she was cleaning a floor, not a person.
"Your skin is too pale," the maid complained. "You look like a ghost. The King likes things with color. He likes fire."
The maid opened the large box. Inside was a new dress. It was not a funeral dress, and it was not a royal gown. It was a black corset dress. It was made of thick leather and dark silk.
"Put this on," the maid ordered.
Celeste looked at the dress. It looked very tight. It had many laces in the back. The maid forced Celeste to stand up. The carriage was small, so Celeste had to bend her head.
The maid put the dress on her. Then, she stood behind Celeste and pulled the laces. She pulled them so hard that Celeste couldn't breathe.
"Stop!" Celeste gasped. "It is too tight!"
"It has to be tight," the maid said. "It shows your shape. The King needs to see what he bought. He paid a lot of blood for you. You need to look presentable for consumption."
Celeste felt her heart pounding against the tight leather. The dress pushed her chest up and made her waist look very small. It made her feel like an object in a shop. The maid then brushed Celeste's long silver hair. She brushed it until it shone like metal. She did not use a ribbon. She left it long and loose.
"There," the maid said. She looked at Celeste. "Now you look like a prize. A little bit of paint on your lips, and you will be ready."
The maid put a dark red stain on Celeste's lips. It looked like blood. Then, the maid crawled back out the small door and locked it. Celeste was alone again.
She felt strange in the new dress. The leather was warm against her skin. It felt stronger than her old white dresses. She crawled toward the small slits in the carriage wall. She wanted to see where they were.
She pressed her eye against a slit. She expected to see the beautiful forests of Aetheria. She expected to see the white towers and the green parks.
But she did not see those things.
The carriage was moving through a place she had never seen. This was the bottom of the mountain. It was the Human Slums.
Celeste stared in shock. The buildings were made of scrap wood and mud. They were falling apart. The streets were full of dirty water. She saw people—humans—standing in the mud. They looked very thin. Their clothes were rags.
She saw a human child sitting on a crate. The child was crying. An angel guard stood nearby. The guard had beautiful white wings. He looked perfect. But he was holding a whip. He yelled at the humans to move out of the way of the demon carriage.
"Move, you trash!" the guard yelled. He flapped his wings, blowing dust into the humans' faces.
Celeste felt a pain in her heart. She had lived in the high palace her whole life. She thought Aetheria was perfect. She thought everyone was happy. No one ever told her about the slums. No one told her that the "perfect" kingdom was built on the backs of these poor people.
She saw an old human woman looking at the carriage. The woman's eyes were full of hate. She didn't know a princess was inside. She probably thought the carriage was full of demon gold.
Celeste felt a strange connection to the people in the mud. She was a princess, and they were servants. But they were the same. The angels with wings looked down on both of them. The angels thought they were better than the humans because they had wings. They thought they were better than Celeste because she was "defective."
"We are all the same to them," Celeste whispered to the dark walls of the carriage. "We are all just tools."
For the first time, Celeste felt angry. She wasn't just sad anymore. She was angry at her father. She was angry at Caelum. They spent all their money on gold statues and silk robes, while these people starved in the mud.
The kingdom of Aetheria was a lie. It was beautiful on the outside, but it was rotten on the inside.
The carriage moved past the slums and started to climb a rocky hill. The air began to change. The bright light of the sun was fading. A thick, red mist was rolling over the ground.
Celeste knew they were close to the border. The "Great Chasm" was the line between the light and the dark.
She sat back down on the bench. She looked at her hands. They were shaking. In a few minutes, the iron door would open. She would be handed over to Athan.
She thought about the corset dress. She thought about the red paint on her lips. She thought about the humans in the mud.
"I am a sacrifice," she told herself. "But I am not theirs anymore."
She felt the Demon Scroll in her chest again. It was pulsing faster now. It was like a second heartbeat. It was warm. It was almost like the scroll was happy. It was happy she was leaving the white city.
The carriage slowed down. She heard the horses neigh. She heard the sound of many boots on the ground. There were soldiers everywhere.
"We are here!" the demon driver shouted.
The carriage stopped. The silence was scary. Celeste held her breath. She stood up. She smoothed the black leather of her dress. She pulled her silver hair over her shoulders.
She remembered what Queen Seraphina said. Your mother was a witch.
If she was a witch, maybe she had power hidden inside her. Maybe the Demon King wouldn't be able to break her.
The lock on the door turned. Clack.
The door swung open.
The air that hit her face was hot. It smelled like fire and old magic. The sky was not blue anymore. It was a dark, bruised purple.
Celeste stepped to the edge of the carriage. She looked out.
On one side stood the Angel Army. They were all in silver armor. They looked like statues. Her brother, Caelum, was there. He was sitting on a white horse, looking bored.
On the other side stood the Demon Army. They were terrifying. They had horns, wings, and glowing eyes. They didn't stand in straight lines. They looked ready to hunt.
And in the middle, standing on the red dirt, was a man.
He was the tallest person Celeste had ever seen. He wasn't wearing a helmet. His hair was black as night. He had two massive obsidian wings that stretched out far. They looked like they were made of volcanic glass.
His eyes were gold. And they were fixed right on her.
This was Athan.
Celeste felt the air leave her lungs. He didn't look like a beast. He looked like a King. A dark, terrifying, beautiful King.
He stepped forward. The ground seemed to tremble under his boots. The angel soldiers moved back, looking scared. But Athan didn't look at the soldiers. He only looked at the girl in the black leather dress.
He stopped at the base of the carriage. He held out a hand. His fingers were long and covered in black metal rings.
"Come down, Little Bird," Athan said. His voice was like thunder.
Celeste looked at his hand. Then she looked back at her brother. Caelum was laughing.
"Go on, Celeste," Caelum shouted. "Go to your monster!"
Celeste looked back at Athan. She saw something in his gold eyes. It wasn't disgust. It wasn't hate. It was a dark, hungry curiosity.
She took a deep breath. She placed her small, pale hand into his large, hot palm.
The moment they touched, a spark of black fire shot between them. Celeste gasped. Athan's eyes turned bright red for a second. He gripped her hand tight. He didn't let go.
He pulled her down from the carriage. He didn't put her on the ground. He caught her against his chest. He was as hard as stone and smelled like spice and smoke.
"You are smaller than I thought," Athan whispered into her hair.
Celeste looked up at him. "Do you want to send me back?"
Athan let out a low, dark laugh. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his armor. "Never. I paid a high price for you, Celeste. And I keep what is mine."
He turned her away from the Angel Kingdom. He didn't look back at the King or the Prince. He walked her toward the dark mist of the Underworld.
Celeste felt the cold wind of the border hit her back. But where Athan touched her, she felt like she was on fire.
She was leaving the world of light. She was entering the world of shadows. And as she walked beside the Demon King, she realized she wasn't afraid of the dark anymore. She was afraid of how much she liked the heat.