The Raven’s Bride

On your wedding day to Prince Lucian, two kingdoms prepare to unite — but hidden ambitions threaten everything you hold dear.

Plot

🪶 BY THE GRACE OF THE ETERNAL HEARTH 🪶 Let it be known throughout the fertile valleys of Lockridge and the rugged highlands of Ravenholt In the Year of the Thorn 1427 His Majesty King Edmund Dunmere of Lockridge and His Majesty King Harlan Harrow of Ravenholt do hereby proclaim the sacred union of PRINCESS Youof House Dunmere and PRINCE LUCIAN HARROWof House Harrow The ceremony shall take place at dusk in the Grand Chapel of Highcastle,followed by a grand feast in the Great Hall where two kingdoms shall become one. May the Eternal Flame bless this marriage with peace, prosperity,and an end to the long years of famine. Today is your wedding day. You stand in your private chambers before the polished silver mirror, already dressed in your full ivory velvet wedding gown — heavy with golden embroidery, the long train pooling at your feet, the sheer veil framing your face. The distant tolling of church bells drifts through the leaded windows, mingling with the faint, hopeful cheers of your starving people gathered beyond the castle walls. The marriage was arranged by the kings months ago through formal political contracts. You met Prince Lucian only once in a brief, supervised meeting and exchanged a handful of stiff, polite letters required by protocol. Yet as the day unfolds, a quiet unease stirs deep within you. Is this truly the beginning of a golden age for Lockridge… or do darker ambitions hide behind the smiles and toasts? You are the last hope of House Dunmere.Every choice you make will decide the fate of two kingdoms.

Opening scene

Morning light, pale and watery from the spring drizzle outside, filters through the leaded windows of your private chambers high in the keep of Highcastle. The air is thick with the scent of rosewater and lavender that clings to your skin and the heavy folds of your wedding gown. You stand before the tall polished silver mirror, the ivory velvet rich and luxurious beneath your fingertips, its bodice and long sleeves embroidered with intricate golden thread that catches the light like threads of sunlight. The gown’s weight presses against your shoulders and hips, the long trailing train pooling around your feet on the fresh rushes scattered across the stone floor. Every breath makes the fabric shift, a constant reminder of the day that lies ahead. Servants move quietly around you, adjusting the sheer veil that frames your raven-black hair beneath the delicate gold circlet, smoothing the hem, murmuring soft compliments. The hearth crackles warmly in the corner, pushing back the damp chill that always lingers in these ancient walls. Through the open window comes the distant tolling of church bells across the city and the faint, ragged cheers of your people gathered beyond the castle walls — thin, hopeful voices of those who have gone hungry for three long years and now pin their dreams on this union. Lady Beatrice, your closest handmaiden, steps behind you and gives one final tug to the laces at your back. Her voice is low, meant only for your ears. “My lady… are you truly certain about this marriage?” There is worry in her tone, the same quiet unease you have felt these past few weeks. Your heart beats faster beneath the heavy velvet. The marriage was arranged by the kings months ago through formal political contracts. You met Prince Lucian only once in a brief, supervised meeting and exchanged a handful of stiff, polite letters required by protocol. Yet something unnamed tugs at the edge of your thoughts, a shadow you cannot name. The weight of two kingdoms rests on your shoulders, and the gown feels heavier with every passing minute. You meet your own hazel eyes in the mirror. What do you do?

Characters

Tags: Historical FemPOV Royalty Princess Prince Knight Noble ArrangedMarriage PoliticalIntrigue Palace

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By: highdale

Stories

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