Page 25 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

‘That’s in the Kingdom of Light.’

‘Oh.’ She pouted, then shrugged. ‘They’re rather similar.’ Kai smirked as she began twisting a strand of black hair around her finger—a restless habit she had never outgrown. ‘Father says all the kingdoms will be at the wedding. Do you think that’strue?’

Kai sighed. ‘I’m not sure, Mal. The kingdoms have kept to themselves for so long… but I suppose they would not want to miss such a spectacle.’

‘Kage and I have been reading about the different Houses. House of Wild fascinates me most—Kage says they live up in the trees! Do you think that’s true? Oh, and House of Sand? They say their serpents are so massive, they travel for miles across the desert.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Though I suspect Kage is exaggerating. He does love to keep me entertained.’

‘I’ve never known Kage to embellish anything, so it must be true.’

Mal gasped, delight bursting across her face. ‘Oh, then I hope they arrive on those magnificent serpents.’

They wandered deeper into the gardens, their boots pressing softly against the damp earth. Every servant they passed greeted them warmly—some bowing, others offering shy smiles. The wyverians cherished their royal family, despite the whispered fears they harboured about the princess with purple eyes. And yet, Kai noticed the way their gazes lingered on Mal, laced with quiet sorrow.

They, too, knew what was coming.

‘Mal.’

Kai wanted to tell her everything. To warn her. To demand she send word the moment the Fire Prince showed the slightest hint of cruelty. To beg her to run if things turned dark. He hated that she would never know love—not truly. Not the kind their parents had, the kind that burnt softly but fiercely, unwavering in its warmth. Her husband would never look at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

And that thoughtshatteredhim.

She deserved a love that would protect her, cherish her—all the little pieces of her that made herMal. Her strange quirks, herboundless curiosity, the way she bit her lip when she concentrated or how she could talk for hours about stories that fascinated her. But instead, she was being sent to a kingdom that would break her.

Kai swallowed the lump in his throat.

‘I’m rather hungry,’ he said instead, pushing aside the words he truly wished to say. ‘I think I’ll try one of your cupcakes.’

Mal’s smile was a sunrise against the darkness. And for a fleeting moment, Kai let himself believe that everything would be all right.

The Kingdom of Fire is ruthless. The king wishes to marry his daughter off to Hadrian, to strengthen their alliance. I know there is more to this. There is a shadow lurking over us, watching us. I have heard His cackle, as if He had planned it. Hadrian has called out to Him in his sleep, and I wonder. Have the gods done this? Have they whispered in the Fire King’s ear, spitting their vile ideas into his mind, corrupting him. They know the marriage oath will be a problem. They know Hadrian loves another—that he loves me. Now they will wait to see whether we are willing to sacrifice our love to this game.

I will not.

Tabitha Wysteria

Alina Acheron was late.

She was never one to be tardy, but the delicate art of perfecting her golden hair had taken longer than usual. Her maid had fussed over every curl, every strand, twisting and pinning until Alina’s patience had frayed as thin as the silk ribbons woven into her locks. Now, with her skirts lifted just enough to avoid tangling in her steps, she hurried down the castle’s endless halls, her breath sharp, her pulse racing.

Her brown eyes landed on the training yard below—and the sight that greeted her made her blood boil.

‘I will murder him!’ she seethed, gathering the crimson foldsof her dress as she stormed down the winding stairs. She barely registered the grit of dust clinging to the hem or the damp earth seeping into the delicate golden slippers she had so painstakingly chosen that morning. ‘Ash!’

Prince Ash stood in the centre of the yard, his naked torso gleaming under the golden wash of morning light, sweat carving rivulets down his bronzed skin. His sword arced through the air in a silver blur, clashing against another blade with practiced ease. More than one young lady paused to admire the spectacle. Alina, catching their lingering stares, hissed at them like an offended viper.

Hagan, clad in the crimson robes of the Red Guard, halted mid-motion, his keen warrior’s instincts sensing the shift before Ash did. With a slight nod, he directed the prince’s attention behind him.

Alina’s gaze lingered, caught in the pull of something she had long tried to forget.

The sun had deepened his skin, bronzed from endless days spent beneath its unrelenting blaze, each hour of training etched into the hardened muscle beneath his robes. The golden hair she once knew—the hair she had threaded her fingers through, tangled and soft—was gone, shorn away as tradition demanded of the Red Guard.

Her eyes drifted downward, betraying her.

His mouth.

The same mouth that had once spoken her name in whispers, now set in a firm line, unreadable.

She hated herself for looking. Hated herself even more for remembering.

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