Chapter 65 The Grandlewood

Chapter 65 The Grandlewood
65: The Grandlewood

There are three things I have learned about royal drama:
If an enemy shows up uninvited, expect a fight.
If a rival shows up invited, expect sabotage.
If a future bride-to-be shows up with a royal entourage, wearing diamonds large enough to signal ships from the next continent
prepare for war.
Narissa Grandle of Grandlewood arrived at Dravenmoor the same way a thunderstorm announces itself. Very loud, very bright, and very unavoidable.

Her arrival was preceded by a caravan of glowing carriages, armored escorts, harps, violins, banners, and a walking formation that looked like a fashion show and military invasion decided to collaborate. The Grandlewood crest glittered on every shield and every horse saddle. Everything was gold and emerald, sparkling so aggressively it gave me a migraine.

I watched from the top of the crumbling balcony of the Dravenmoor fortress. The wind whipped my hair, my cloak, and every shred of patience I had left.

Elijah stood beside me, hands clasped behind his back with the serenity of a man plotting someone’s quiet death.

“Milady, she brings seventy guards, three advisors, ten handmaidens, two priests, and a Grand Duchess,” he murmured.
I blinked. “That is not a welcome visit. That is an occupation.”

Elijah nodded once. “Yes. But politely decorated.”

We watched Narissa step out of her glowing carriage, dressed in a gown so expensive it could have paid for the reconstruction of Dravenmoor twice. She was painfully beautiful, the kind of beauty that made bards compose stories and queens get jealous. Her hair fell in perfect golden waves. Her emerald gown shimmered like fresh leaves under spring sunlight. Her smile was dazzling, deadly, and diplomatic.

She was the kind of woman kings fought wars for.

And the kind women like me wanted to throw into a river.

She looked around with a soft gasp, eyes full of pity and judgment disguised as concern. Ah. These ruins. So… dark and tragic. Such a burden to inherit.

I made a mental note to add her to the list of people I was legally allowed to strangle if someone asked.

Elijah spoke quietly without looking at me. “I understand that glare. Should I prepare the dungeon, the wolves, or the cliff near the waterfall.”

I blinked slowly. “Elijah, we are not killing her.”

His tone stayed perfectly mild. “I only need to know which one to prepare.”

Before I answered, Lucian appeared at the base of the staircase, walking toward Narissa.

And oh. Oh. Of course.

He was wearing his formal armor. Polished black and silver, tall, terrifying, powerful. His long hair tied loosely back. His presence alone made warriors shift to attention. The aura of an Alpha who survived death and defied fate.

Narissa lit up like she had seen the sun itself.
“My grace. You look magnificent.”

My jaw clenched. Elijah quietly handed me a lemon drop candy. I think it was his attempt at preventing homicide.

Lucian bowed stiffly. “Lady Narissa. Welcome to Dravenmoor.”

Nari walked forward and took his hands without hesitation. Without permission. Like she already owned him. Like I did not exist.

Her voice dripped with sugary concern. “I heard you were wounded during the battle. I came as soon as I could. I could not bear the thought of my future husband suffering without me.”

My soul left my body and did a cartwheel down the stairs.

Lucian did not return the gesture. He removed his hands from hers slowly. Politely. Firmly.

“I appreciate your concern. But I do not require a bride or escort. Dravenmoor stands with Luna. And with her, I stand as well.”

Narissa's smile didn’t even flinch, which honestly deserves respect and fear. She merely adjusted her gown, turned slightly, and spoke louder. So everyone could hear.

“A Luna is nothing without a crown. But a Queen earns hers.”

I felt that insult slap me harder than any physical blow.

Elijah spoke under his breath. “Shall I fetch the cliff now.”

I didn’t get to reply.

Narissa finally lifted her gaze to the balcony where I stood. Her eyes widened in recognition. Her smile sweetened.

“Ah. So you must be Aria Quinn from Silvermoon. The woman everyone is talking about.”

A hundred wolves turned toward me. Suddenly I was the center of attention whether I wanted to be or not. I felt like a deer that had just walked into a hunters’ convention.

I forced myself to walk down the stairs. Slowly. Gracefully. With enough confidence to hide the panic crawling through my bones. My gown swayed behind me. Every step echoed.

Narissa studied me with open curiosity. “You are… prettier than I expected.”

I smiled back. “And you are louder than I expected.”

Elijah coughed violently. Lucian choked down a laugh.

Nari's smile thinned. She tilted her head, emerald earrings dripping elegance. “I am here for peace. For Dravenmoor’s stability. For your future. You should understand that.”

I folded my arms. “Oh I understand politics perfectly. Allies. Territories. Resources. Marriage as currency. Yes. I get it. I just don’t like the part where I get erased from the equation because I’m inconvenient.”

Narissa's voice softened in a patronizing way that made my fingers twitch. “Inconvenient does not mean unimportant. But sometimes, personal feelings must step aside for the greater good.”

I froze.

Because that was exactly what I had told myself a thousand times before. Sacrifice the self. Protect the people. Die if necessary. And I was tired. Tired of losing my life to duty and fate.

Lucian stepped between us, voice steady but lethal. “Lady Grandle. There will be no marriage. Not now. Not ever. I have made my choice.”

Nari finally dropped her composure. Her eyes hardened. Her smile vanished. 

“Then I hope you understand what Dravenmoor risks for that choice.”

And just like that, she brushed past Lucian and walked inside the fortress, ready to play political chess with a kingdom still bleeding from war.

Silence fell.

Only then did I realize how hard I was breathing.

Lucian turned to me, concerned in his eyes. “Keira. Are you all right?”

I forced a laugh that sounded like it had scraped its way out of my lungs. Perfect. Just perfect. I love welcoming your future brides to our war-torn home. Such a beautiful bonding experience

He reached for me. I stepped back. I did not want to. It just happened.

Because fear had crept in. The same fear that once drove me away. The fear that love alone is never enough.

Lucian watched me with a quiet pain. “Keira. Nothing will take you away from me. Not politics. Not alliances. Not my mother. Not Narissa. Nothing.”

I swallowed hard. “I want to believe that.”

“You can,” he whispered.

I nodded, but the knot in my chest didn’t ease. Not yet.

Behind us, Grandlewood’s banners fluttered in the wind. Bright. Elegant. Threatening. Narissa had arrived. And she was here for a throne. Not a wedding. Not a kingdom. A crown that required removing me first. The war had changed. The battlefield was no longer the altar or the curse. It was the palace. And I was officially the problem everyone’s politics wanted gone.