Chapter 2

Celeste's POV

Tobias's breath caught. Something like panic flickered behind his eyes.

"But, Celeste..." Old King Theodore let out a sigh, looking torn. "You're still the Elven princess, and Tobias's widow. Look around the whole kingdom. Who in the Gryphon Kingdom would dare marry you? Who could possibly deserve you?"

That's when the doors to the hall slammed open. A deep voice cut through from outside.

"I will."

A tall, powerful figure walked in, cutting straight through the glare of the light behind him. He wore dark gold armor, his face carved and cold as stone, and the air around him felt thick with menace.

Duke Ronan. The Gryphon Kingdom's strongest warrior, a man every race on the continent feared by name alone.

The nobles in the hall sucked in a breath and stepped back, clearing a path without meaning to. Even Theodore straightened on his throne.

"Ronan. What are you doing here?"

Ronan walked straight to me. His eyes, always so cold, held something almost gentle when they landed on me. He dropped to one knee in a knight's salute.

"Your Majesty." Ronan lifted his head. "I want to marry Celeste. I swear it on my sword and my life. I'll give her every honor and protection she deserves."

Dead silence swallowed the room.

Tobias was losing it. Ronan spent most of his time guarding the northern border and stayed out of politics in the capital, but he commanded a massive army, which made him the one man Tobias actually feared. If I married Ronan, every resource I controlled from the Elven Realm would land in his hands instead. That was something Tobias couldn't stomach.

"No." Tobias lunged forward a step, jabbing a finger at Ronan. "Ronan, Celeste is my brother's widow. How dare you make a demand like this now, of all times? This is an insult to the crown."

Ronan rose to his feet, standing half a head taller than Tobias.

"Prince Nathaniel. Correct me if I'm wrong, but nowhere in Gryphon law does it say a widow can't remarry. And His Majesty already gave his word in front of everyone that he'd grant Celeste whatever she asked. Are you saying the king should go back on that?"

Tobias's face went red. He had nothing.

Right now he was wearing Nathaniel's face, and Nathaniel was supposed to be gracious, level-headed, always thinking of the bigger picture. But in the last few minutes he'd thrown a tantrum more than once, and a few of the nobles were already exchanging looks.

Sabrina rushed in to smooth things over, her eyes red, playing the picture of heartbreak as she turned to Ronan. "Duke, my sister's just grieving. She's not thinking straight. How could you take advantage of her like this? Deep down, the only man she loves is Tobias."

Watching her perform made my stomach turn.

"You're wrong, Sabrina." I didn't hold back. "My head's never been clearer. I'd rather leave this palace and go north with the Duke. At least he's honest. Not like some people, who cry their eyes out in public and scheme behind closed doors."

My words landed exactly where I wanted them to. Both Tobias and Sabrina went pale.

"Celeste, do you even hear yourself?" Tobias hissed through his teeth.

I ignored him and turned back to the old king. "Your Majesty. What do you say?"

Theodore looked at me, steady and sure, then at Ronan standing beside me like some kind of guardian statue. He let out a long breath.

"If this is what you want, Celeste, then I'll allow it." Theodore waved a hand. "As of today, you're no longer Tobias's widow. You're Ronan's fiancée."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." I bowed slightly.

Ronan turned and held out his hand, gloved in black leather. His touch was gentle, nothing like the reputation that came with him. I put my hand in his without hesitation.

"Let's go." Ronan held my hand tight and led me toward the doors.

"Celeste!" Tobias's voice cracked behind us, thick with fury and something close to desperation.

I stopped, turned my head just enough to look at him. "Prince Nathaniel, you should focus on your coronation."

I didn't look back again. I walked out of the palace.

Half an hour later, I was sitting on the velvet sofa in the Duke's estate. No trace of that suffocating rot the palace always carried, just the faint scent of pine.

Ronan came over with a cup of warm elven tea and handed it to me.

"Did they give you a hard time in there?" he asked out of nowhere, something almost awkward in his voice.

I blinked, looking up at him. "What?"