Page 58 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

Haven noticed the way Alina Acheron shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearly unimpressed by the spectacle before her.

‘Kai, you are drooling,’ Haven chastised her brother.

He smiled, fangs appearing. ‘I can’t help it, sister. They move beautifully.’

The Fire Princess’s expression was a careful mask of indifference, but when she glanced towards Kai, something glimmered in her eyes. A look Haven did not miss. She would have to speak to Kai about it later. Their youngest sister was already being forced into marriage—Haven would not tolerate Kai meddling in drakonian affairs and making things worse.

A fresh wave of applause broke through her thoughts.

The House of Wild had arrived.

Haven clapped, though her movements were far more enthusiastic than Alina’s, who merely mimicked the gesture with a disinterested huff.

Flora Hawthorne entered the arena, and all at once, the crowd stilled. She was a vision of the forest itself, a living embodiment of the wild. Her gown, woven from leaves, trailed behind her in a shimmering cascade of green. But what drew every gaze was not the gown—it was the butterflies.

Hundreds of them.

They rested upon the fabric, scattered across her like living jewels, their delicate wings adding bursts of iridescent colour to her form. Even her antlers were adorned with them, tiny wings fluttering as the creatures remained perched upon their living throne. Then, with a single motion, she lifted her arms.

The butterflies took flight all at once, an explosion of colour and movement. Gasps filled the arena, breathless and awed, as the creatures spiraled upward, their wings catching the golden light, scattering it in dazzling patterns before disappearing intothe sky.

When the last of them had vanished, Flora was left standing alone in the centre of the arena, still clad in nothing but leaves, her expression one of quiet satisfaction.

‘Beautiful, is it not?’ Haven said, leaning over towards the Fire Princess, both clapping with disinterest.

Alina humphed.

‘Don’t the Fae have magic?’ Haven asked.

‘They do, but it is a different kind of magic to that of the witches,’ Alina replied.

‘Ah, so it is a magic that is approved.’

Alina kept her attention on the performance, but Haven noticed the way those eyes sharpened.

‘It is not a question of magic in itself, it is a matter of how the magic is wielded.’

‘It does not frighten you then?’ Haven turned to look at the princess. ‘That they possess such abilities?’

‘No.’ Alina snorted, indifferent. ‘The witches were far greater and look at what we did to them.’

Haven nodded, thoughtfully. The witches had been a threat to every kingdom once, a force too powerful to be ignored. The marriage between Hadrian and Tabitha had been the perfect excuse.

‘Nonetheless, it is not always others whom we should fear the most,’ Alina said, causing Haven to return her attention to the princess. ‘Sometimes the real monsters lurk within our own walls.’

…

Alina had to admit—she was excruciatingly bored. Some of the Houses offered performances engaging enough to momentarily capture her attention, but others had her nearlydozing in her seat. And to make matters worse, the chair was abominably uncomfortable. Surely her family, with all their wealth and splendour, could afford to commission something far more luxurious than the stiff-backed monstrosities provided in the arena.

But then—House of Wings arrived.

Alina sat up straighter, every trace of lethargy vanishing.

Of all the kingdoms that had gathered for her brother’s union to the wyverian princess, none had intrigued her quite as much as the valkyrians. Their floating islands, suspended high above the world, could only be reached by their legendary warhorses—creatures so luminous, so magnificent, that some believed they could blind any who dared to look upon them for too long.

There were four islands, one in each cardinal direction. From the balcony of her chambers, Alina had spent her childhood staring at one of them, visible as a hazy silhouette on the horizon, its shadow skimming the endless sea. She had dreamt of the warriors who lived upon those islands, high above the earth, sworn to protect the kingdoms below.

During the Great War, the valkyrians had fought not for conquest but for balance. They had chosen no sides, their sole purpose to contain the destruction, to shield the innocent. And when the witches had finally been eradicated, the valkyrians had left the battlefield in bitter scorn, cursing the kingdoms for the needless bloodshed.

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