Chapter 1

I stood on a precipice, helplessly watching the man who loved to duel for my hand in marriage, and miserably lose not only my hand, but his life.

My beloved Cristhofer fought so hard against Commander John Chase, a tall man who was close to 28 years old, he ruled on the Island of Corvo that was next to Shivia, and the reason he fought for my hand was not love, it was for politics and power, because I was Helena Lancaster, sister of King Charles the second Lancaster who found it amusing to host a tournament to the death by my hand.

How romantic, isn't it? Men coming from all over just to die competing for the chance to marry me.

So when the head of the only man I ever wanted to win the tournament fell onto the fighting arena, I felt it was my end.

John Chase was in the finals of the tournament for the princess, and the audience roared in glee at the bloody show he put on for them. From the top of our royal tent I looked for the first time into the eyes of the man who had a great chance of becoming my husband, his black hair fell wet with sweat over his forehead, his eyes were black as onyx stones, and his face was stubbled, his nose sharp and his chin strong. His physical features would have been attractive, if not for the blood of Christofer on his face, he could look ordinary and handsome.

He looked up to where I was sitting with the king who was clapping his hands excitedly at the kill. His black gaze met mine and I saw an abyss in them, a obscurity in them deep, like a cold dark night. Just like that, it was his eyes.

I really couldn't marry that man!

I got up from the chair feeling the tears threatening to fall in front of everyone, they betrayed my emotions. Trying at all costs to release the pain that I tried to mask, because I couldn't show those people that my lover dropped dead while they celebrated. Then I descended from the place reserved for the king, being accompanied by the guards to the carriage, back to the palace, where in my chambers I may weep for Christofer.

When I walked through the doors my room was full of servants preparing a bath and walking with various dresses for balls, I yelled for everyone to leave. I knew the reason for all the fuss, just before the king announced the semifinals finalists, he announced that the winner that If he won his spot in the final fight, he would be invited to a ball at the royal palace tonight.

I believed that tonight I would be in Christofer's arms...

When the handmaidens widened their eyes at my screams, I couldn't bring myself to be sorry that I was yelling at them, because my heart was breaking for the man I'd just lost, and the last thing I wanted was to be in a ballroom with the man who'd just killed coldly.

When I looked back at them again I noticed that although they were startled by my orders, they didn't move from their places, and although my tears threatened to fall I held them back, and when I turned to look in the direction of the servants' gaze, I immediately realized the reason for their hesitation.

" What do you think you're doing, Helena?You go back to work. " ordered Hera the Queen, also known as the wicther.

I took a deep breath and stared into those inquisitive blue eyes. My relationship with Cristhofer was a secret, because he was not noble, but thanks to the tournament he had the chance to compete for my hand, because this was the part of the tournament that moved men of various corners of the kingdom, it was not necessary to have a noble title to participate.

Then my hysterical attitude aroused that suspicious blue gaze.

" Tonight is an important night. Look at you with that tearful face, those tired eyes as if you hadn't slept the night. This is not what a princess looks like. Take a shower and let the maids make you presentable.

With those harsh words, not wanting to give me a chance to counter that this prom wasn't important to me, she turned away."

She went followed by her guard into the hallway, leaving me standing in the center of the room, dying to tell her how much I hated her.

The following hours were followed by a hot bath, putting on dresses and jewelry, servants fixing my hair.

The end result was me in a wine-colored dress with a neckline a little too revealing, I asked the servants why that dress, but they only said that it was superior orders.

What a degrading point I had reached, not being able to choose my own clothes.

Impeccable makeup that lit up the gray in my eyes, black hair fell in thick curls to my waist. On top of my head a tiara framed with crystals, all of that was just a demonstration of the prized prize that I was, as if I didn't was a person, but just another jewel in the crown.

I believe this was how women everywhere were seen by men, a prize to be won, this realization made me sick but also evoked painful memories.

Christofer's face, with its blond curls around it, his loose and sincere almost childlike smile that was always on him, the loving green eyes... He didn't see me as a jewel in a king's palace.

To him my value was not estimated in nobility, or wealth...

And for that I loved him.

As I walked down the hall accompanied by the guards, the sound of partying and noisy conversations got louder and louder. I wanted to simply undo this makeup, throw this tiara on the wall and return to my quarters, but halfway down the hall I froze. I hadn't awakened this alert in a long time, I felt that sense of tangible danger, and I couldn't explain who was responsible for awakening it in me until the ballroom doors were opened and a man walked through them.

That man was John Chase.

He was dressed elegantly, wearing the same colors as me, burgundy, and shades of black but strangely on him it seemed to glow even though he didn't wear any jewelry.

His dark gaze darted over me, analyzing my dress and predictably lingering on my cleavage. And I started to wonder who had given such an order for the dress, it wouldn't be any surprise if he had offered gold and silver to the king and queen only to pick out my outfit tonight. But if he did, he did it before the fight, and that just showed the size of his self-confidence and arrogance.

He was clean-shaven, showing more clearly the pale, flawless skin of his face, his eyebrows were black and bushy, they left a permanent seriousness on his countenance, his eyes were too dark, revealing nothing of him except that he was cunning.

When I remained paralyzed a few meters away from him, his deep voice resounded:

" Has my presence frightened the princess?"  So the seriousness I saw before had completely abandoned his expression, which was now one of lascivious cynicism, a teasing smile played on his perfect lips, because that was exactly what he wanted, to frighten me, what a vile man!

I improved my posture, trying to ignore the tremors I felt, trying not to show that his presence in the hallway, even without the arena blood, in clean, beautiful clothes, was intimidating, his aura screaming at me that he was a dangerous man, in every way. And that's what stopped me when I saw him.

Call it sixth sense, intuition, special ability, but it was something that had been with me since I was born.

So I stared at him, the teasing smile on his lips telling me he wasn't the least bit shaken by the life he took a few hours ago. He was completely cold about it.

" You're not as scary as you think. " I snapped and forced my legs to continue the course, but when I got close to the doors he blocked them.

I looked at the guards who had opposed him, but John Chase smiled again, and this time he took a paper from his pocket that bore the seal of the king. He held it out to me.

When I took the paper I saw what it said.

And I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Or rather, horrified.

" As the princess was speechless, I'm sure that due to the emotion of what you read, I will clarify for you, noble guards. " He took the paper from my hand and opened it in front of the anxious guards. "I, King Charles Lancaster, as I authorize Corvo Island Commander, John Chase, to walk the Princess through the Palace Gardens. " John Chase announced in a solemn voice.