Far beyond the Ashthorne estate, beyond the jeweled capital, beyond the golden lands of the central empire, lay a place the sun feared to touch.
Ravenhollow.
Once a prosperous duchy, now cloaked in fog and silence, its lands were dark, its woods uninviting. The villagers spoke of howling at night and claimed the dead never slept peacefully there.
In the heart of this cursed domain stood Nightspire Keep, an ancient fortress carved from black stone, overlooking a dead forest and a frozen lake.
And in the highest tower sat Lucien Nightbane, Duke of Ravenhollow.
He stood before a stained-glass window as a hawk landed on the steel perch behind him.
The letter tied to its leg bore the Ashthorne crest.
He broke the seal without hesitation.
His pale, calloused fingers unfolded the parchment. He read the words slowly, expression unreadable. But when he reached the end, a faint, humorless smile touched the corner of his lips.
"Ashthorne's little jewel wishes to marry a devil."
He turned to the figure behind him.
"She seeks protection," he said. "Or perhaps, vengeance."
"She seeks to bind herself to a man no other noblewoman dares speak of," replied Edric, his right hand and steward.
Lucien's crimson eyes gleamed.
"She is either a fool," Lucien murmured, "or… exactly what I've been waiting for."
Back at the Ashthorne estate, Seraphina could feel the winds shift.
Two days had passed since she sent the letter. She had not yet received a response—but the consequences were already unraveling.
That morning, she had been summoned by the royal court.
"An inquiry," they called it.
In truth, it was a veiled warning.
Kael would not tolerate rejection.
The royal palace shimmered in gold and ivory. Its hallways gleamed with marble floors, and every step Seraphina took echoed under the weight of a thousand painted eyes from portraits of rulers past.
She entered the chamber of nobles flanked by guards. Her father had already arrived, face stiff with tension. Across from them, Prince Kael stood by the throne, dressed in royal blue and white. He was every inch the perfect prince.
Except to her.
"Lady Seraphina Ashthorne," Kael said smoothly. "You've caused quite the stir."
She curtsied. "Your Highness."
"Rumors travel fast," he said. "Is it true you've sent a marriage offer to Lucien Nightbane?"
"I have."
The room erupted in gasps.
"Impossible.""She must have been coerced.""That cursed beast?!""Does she wish to doom the empire?"
Seraphina lifted her chin. "I was not coerced. I made the choice of my own will."
Kael stepped forward. His voice dropped low, eyes burning into hers. "You were promised to me."
"I was not property to be promised, Your Highness. I am not cattle to be auctioned."
He stiffened.
"You risk scandal," he growled.
"I survived something worse than scandal," she replied coldly. "I survived betrayal. You should know."
The court fell deathly silent.
Kael's smile cracked.
"I see," he said finally. "Then let us hope the Duke of Ravenhollow answers your call. If not… you'll find there are worse things than rejection."
She didn't flinch.
Let him threaten her.
She had faced fire.
What was a prince to a phoenix?
That night, as the moon hung pale above the Ashthorne estate, a second hawk returned—black-feathered and silent.
Mira rushed into Seraphina's room with the scroll. "It's from Ravenhollow!"
Seraphina took it with trembling fingers.
She broke the wax.
There were only five words, written in dark, elegant ink:
Come. If you dare, my lady.
No title.
No signature.
But it could only be him.
Lucien Nightbane.
Seraphina stared at the letter long into the night.
He hadn't said yes.
He hadn't said no.
But he had opened the door.
And she would walk through it.