Chapter 117

Chapter 117
Raven’s pov;

By the time the sun clawed its way over the horizon, I was already awake. I’d slept little, pacing my chambers like a caged animal, the message from Helena echoing in my mind.

Princess Ellie.

The last time I’d seen her, she’d been standing on the marble steps of Belgravia’s high court, chin lifted, eyes glittering with smug delight as she informed me, in front of half her father’s advisers, that my existence  was “a seasonal indulgence that had long since soured.”

Now she was coming here, to the place I ruled or thought  I did, but I wasn’t thinking of my old wounds right now.

Princess Ellie wouldn’t be crossing miles of mountain passes for a casual visit just to open old wounds, she wouldn’t do that.  She was sent by her father, a weapon wrapped in silk and whatever the reason for her visit was, it was clearly important. 

And she hated me.

I hadn’t seen Liam recently and wondered why he hadn’t thought to inform me. 

I dressed carefully that morning. Not for her, never for her, but because appearances mattered. If I looked rattled when she arrived, she’d smell blood in the water before she even stepped out of her carriage. I chose black silk with a subtle pattern of raven feathers stitched along the hem, and my hair pulled high and tight, a crown braid that exposed my neck in deliberate defiance.

Helena met me outside the east wing, already in her understated riding leathers.

“Her entourage will be here within the hour,” she murmured.

“Perfect. Just enough time to practice my smile.”

“Make it sharp,” she said. “The Belgravian princess isn’t the type to mistake kindness for strength.”

“You don’t know her like I do, Helena.”

The outer courtyard was a stage by the time her carriage arrived, soldiers in ceremonial armor, servants lined like a living wall, the council’s more opportunistic members gathered under the portico to watch the show.

It was obvious that she was already on her way before we recieved the message of her arrival.

The Belgravian procession swept in with all the subtlety of a storm. Two sleek black carriages, each drawn by a matched set of pale stallions, their bridles and harnesses polished until they threw sunlight like mirrors. Behind them rode ten mounted guards in crimson livery, their breastplates embossed with Belgravia’s sunburst crest.

The first carriage door opened, and Ellie emerged.

She hadn’t changed.

Still impossibly tall for a woman, her build long and willowy in a way that made every movement seem languid and deliberate. Her dress was a masterpiece of Belgravian fashion, white silk that caught the light like water, with a collar of delicate gold shaped into leaves and vines. Her hair, the shade of ripened wheat, was arranged in a loose cascade over one shoulder, as if the wind had just happened to style it that way.

Her eyes found me instantly.

And there it was, that faint upward curl at the corner of her mouth that wasn’t a smile at all. It was a claim of victory before the game even began.

“Raven,” she said as she descended the carriage steps, her voice warm enough for the audience but sharp enough to cut me to the bone. “How interesting it is to see you like this. No one would ever guess that you used to scrub my chambers and empty my chamber pots.”

“Ellie,” I returned evenly. “You look exactly as I remember. You’re yet to mature I see,”

She chuckled and her gaze flicked down my attire and back up again. “And you… you’ve certainly made choices.”

Helena shifted subtly at my side, as if ready to step between us should the verbal sparring turn physical. It wouldn’t, not yet, I wouldn’t let her, but the air between Ellie and me was already taut, humming with years of unspoken threats.

I inclined my head toward the castle. “The council is waiting. I’m sure you have pressing matters to present.”

“Oh, I do.” She smiled sweetly for the watching crowd, then stepped closer until only I could hear her next words. “And I intend to enjoy every moment of presenting them.”

Inside, the atmosphere shifted. The council chamber had been arranged to impress: tall windows spilling morning light over the polished table, maps and documents laid out with meticulous care, a pair of guards flanking the doorway like statues.

Ellie took her seat at the far end, as though she owned the room.

The envoy’s formal introductions were brief, a handful of pleasantries about “the enduring friendship between our kingdoms” that I didn’t believe for a heartbeat. Belgravia had betrayed that friendship long ago. Then Ellie leaned forward, folding her hands atop the table.

“Belgravia has observed…some unrest,” she began, her tone honeyed but laced with steel. “We are, of course, concerned for the stability of Grok. A kingdom so near to our borders cannot afford civil fractures. For both our sakes.”

It wasn’t subtle. This wasn’t concern, it was leverage. She was here to measure the cracks in my position and see if she could widen them.

“And what does Belgravia suggest?” I asked, keeping my voice smooth.

She tilted her head, pretending to consider. “A union. A strengthening of ties. There are… suitors of proper station who might be persuaded to unite our houses. To secure your kingdom and, naturally, to ensure Grok’s loyalty to its allies.”

I felt the muscles in my jaw tighten. King Alaric’s suitors, no doubt. Handpicked to ensure that any monarch of Grok danced to Belgravia’s tune.

“That’s generous of you,” liam said, “but I’ve found that binding oneself to the wrong partner can lead to… instability of a different kind.”

Ellie’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes sharpened. “Oh, I’m sure you’d know.”

“And the last time Belgravia offered a union, we suffered. You decieved us by sending a servant, instead of a princess,” I said, surprising everyone, including princess Ellie.

The chamber fell into a brittle silence, every ear tuned to our exchange.

Helena shifted in her seat beside me, her gaze sliding to the documents spread before her, giving me space to choose my response to veil what I had just said.

I let the pause stretch a heartbeat longer than was polite, then said, “And I’m sure you’ll find Grok more than capable of securing its own future. Without outside… matchmaking.”

Her knuckles whitened against the table edge, just for a moment, before she leaned back, masking it with a languid stretch. “We’ll see, won’t we?”