Page 31 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

Her gaze darted to the princess, to the sword strapped against her back, unease curling in her stomach.

‘We have prepared a feast in your honour,’ the king continued as they began their slow procession towards the grand castle doors. The golden banners of House of Flames fluttered in the wind, stark against the imposing stone walls. ‘First, you shall be escorted to your chambers, where you may rest after such a long journey. I trust your travels fared well?’

Kai inclined his head slightly. ‘Yes, it was pleasant enough.’

And yet, as he spoke, his gaze shifted towards Mal, an unspoken message passing between them—one that Alina could not decipher but felt deep in her bones.

Servants appeared to guide them to their quarters. The king and queen bid their farewells, though not before casting Ash and Alina a silent look—one that made it clear they were expected to be on their best behaviour.

Even as she nodded in response, Alina couldn’t help but stare at these strange, untamed visitors. Their future queen stood as tall as the young wyverian beside her, his black armour polishedand formidable. Her dress shimmered like the night sky, its dark fabric catching the light like scattered stars. Black diamonds adorned her horns, gleaming with each movement.

‘I suppose we will see each other tonight,’ Kai said. His black eyes locked onto hers for the briefest moment, sharp and unreadable. She froze, her breath catching as he narrowed them slightly, acknowledging her at last. Then he smiled, slow and knowing, the intensity behind it sending a shiver through her. Alina turned away quickly, unable to hold his stare.

Ash stepped forward, as if to speak to the princess. For a fleeting moment, she looked almost frightened—a sight that filled Alina with a touch of satisfaction. But the feeling was short-lived. Before uttering a single word, Ash turned away, retreating in silence.

The wyverians followed suit, marching in the opposite direction.

With a huff, Alina lifted the hem of her skirts and hurried after her brother, irritation flaring when she realised where he was headed. He had made his way to one of the many training courtyards, and by the time she stepped onto the parched grounds, he was already in the process of stripping off his armour.

The moment the heavy plating fell away, leaving him in only his shirt, the tension in his face eased, as if the weight of duty had been the true burden, not the reality of his impending marriage.

Immediately, the Red Guard appeared, more of them than usual. It made sense. Even though Ash had been forced into this marriage, it did not mean peace had been established. Not yet. For now, security would remain tight.

Alina lingered, uncertain of what to do with herself. She had never given much thought to the Red Guard before, but sinceHagan had joined their ranks, their presence unsettled her. They were bound by rigid discipline—every man was required to shave his head, follow an austere diet that forbade anything outside its strict regimen, and endure a year of grueling training far from the capital before earning the title of a fully pledged Red Guard.

Drakonian women were not allowed to join.

Alina had argued the matter with her mother, only to be met with the same answer: tradition. Women were not warriors. They were something else. What that something else was, her mother never truly explained.

Frustration simmered beneath her skin, memories of childhood resurfacing. She had wanted nothing more than to play alongside her brother and Hagan, but the queen had reprimanded her for picking up a wooden sword, scolding her as she chased the boys through the courtyard, swinging it wildly. Meanwhile, the other drakonian girls of the court spent their days on useless pursuits—learning to style their hair in the intricate fashion of their people or adorning the great halls in preparation for celebrations.

Alina had no interest in braids or decorations. She wanted to wield a sword and learn how to use it.

As if summoned by thought alone, Hagan appeared in the courtyard, and Alina stiffened. She turned on her heel, searching for an escape. There was nowhere to go. Her mother would undoubtedly scold her, insisting she spend her time sorting through her dresses, but the very idea made her want to set the whole room ablaze.

‘Alina.’

She froze, her foot poised on the first step of the grand staircase, the polished marble gleaming beneath the golden glow of the sconces. The voice that had once been a melody inher ears was now nothing more than an unwelcome specter from her past. Slowly, she turned, her crimson skirts whispering against the stone as she faced him—the man who had once been her dearest friend, her almost everything.

‘What do you want, guard?’ Her voice could slice through steel, cold as the edge of a dagger pressed to the throat.

Hagan stood below her, his red uniform as stark as the divide between them. The sigil of the Red Guard was emblazoned across his chest, a reminder of what he had become.

‘Please, we must speak.’

‘What does a Red Guard have to discuss with the Fire Princess?’ The words came with venom, spat between clenched teeth. He had left years ago, a wiry young man with barely any muscle to his frame. But when he returned a year later, it was as if he had been forged anew. The transformation was startling—his body had filled out, his arms thick with strength, his presence more commanding than she had ever imagined. For a moment, she had wondered what it would feel like to be held in those arms.

‘Please, Alina.’

Noticing the curious glances of nearby servants, she quickly gestured for him to follow. Without a word, they slipped into a dimly lit hallway, one seldom used, its shadows offering them secrecy. Up the winding staircase they climbed, down a series of narrow corridors, until they reached a small door she knew well—an entrance to her chambers. She had discovered this hidden passage years ago, during her restless wanderings through the castle, uncovering secrets no drakonian princess was meant to know.

Turning swiftly, she faced him, anger simmering in her gaze.

‘Speak,’ she commanded.

Hagan stood motionless before her, yet for the first time, uncertainty shimmered in his dark eyes. The Red Guard were trained to stand like statues, to endure hours of stillness without so much as a twitch. And yet, in this moment, it was as if he had forgotten everything. His perfect composure shattered. In an instant, he was mere inches from her, towering over her, his breath warm against her lips.

‘Alina, please, let me explain.’

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