Veilfall always made
Castle Orion feel smaller than it truly was, its towering spires looming like
giants against a darkening sky. As twilight descended, the guards doubled their
posts, their silhouettes stark against the fading light. The heavy iron gates
creaked shut before sunset, sealing the castle from the encroaching night.
Eerie blue torches flickered to life, casting elongated shadows that danced
across the marble halls, transforming the once-familiar corridors into a
labyrinth of unease. Even the roses in the courtyard seemed to sense the shift
in the air, folding their delicate petals inward, bracing for the passage of
something ancient and unknowable.
At twenty years old, I
was deemed old enough to understand the weight of my lineage, old enough to
heed the rules that bound me. Yet, standing at the threshold of the servants’
passage, my cloak pulled tight around my shoulders, I felt the familiar thrill
of rebellion surge through me. Lira, my best friend, flashed me a mischievous
grin that transported me back to our childhood days of unfiltered laughter and
daring exploits.
“You’re the heir to
Dalaria,” she whispered, her tone conspiratorial. “If you want to see the
festival, who’s going to stop you?”
“Mother,” I replied
dryly, the thought of her suffocating authority draping over me like a heavy
fog. “And she’s terrifying.”
Lira’s grin widened.
“Only when she’s awake.”
A laugh escaped me,
unexpected and liberating, cutting through the tension that had gripped me for
weeks. The relentless court lessons, diplomatic dinners, and the burdensome
reminders of my oath-bound future felt like a stack of stones on my chest. Tonight,
I craved an escape.an opportunity to be more than just a symbol of my family’s
legacy. I yearned to be simply a girl draped in a cloak, slipping into the
night alongside her best friend.
Together, we pushed
open the narrow, creaking door and stepped into the biting cold air. Castle
Orion loomed behind us, its silver towers piercing the evening sky, their
windows glowing like watchful eyes in the dark. Before us lay the path to the
village.an inviting yet treacherous route that twisted darkly through the
trees, shrouded in mystery and intrigue.
The moon hung low,
casting a pale sickle of light that bathed the world in an otherworldly glow.
The air crackled with an energy that made the hairs on the back of my neck
stand up, as if the very fabric of reality was straining to listen.
“Do you think the
remnants will show tonight?” I asked, curiosity tinged with trepidation.
Lira shrugged, her
expression thoughtful. “My grandmother says they only bother people with
unfinished oaths.”
My throat tightened at
her words. My entire existence was tangled up in oaths.those I had inherited,
those expected of me, and those I didn’t even know I had yet to fulfill.
We moved swiftly, our
boots crunching over frost-kissed leaves, the sound mingling with the rustle of
branches above us. As we drew closer to the village, the oppressive weight of
the night began to soften. Warm lights flickered between the trees like stars
dimmed by the earth, and music spilled from every corner. Drums, flutes, and
melodies entwined with bursts of laughter. The rich scent of spiced cider and
roasted nuts wound around us, beckoning us further into the lively scene.
When we finally
stepped into the village square, my breath caught in my throat. Lanterns shaped
as roses floated above the rooftops, glowing in hues of crimson and gold,
casting a warm light that felt almost magical. Children dashed about wearing
fox masks and adorned in raven feathers, their joyous shouts filling the air.
Bakers offered honey cakes, their surface dusted with glimmering silver sugar,
while dancers moved gracefully around the bonfire, their shadows leaping like
playful spirits.
“This is beautiful,” I
whispered, my heart swelling at the sight.
Lira elbowed me
gently. “Told you it was worth the risk.”
We meandered through
the vibrant stalls, admiring the charms crafted to ward off remnants. ribbons
woven with moonlight threads, tiny bells that chimed without a breath of wind,
vials of fragrant rosewater blessed by the temple priests. My fingers brushed
against a charm shaped like a thorned rose, its allure capturing my attention.
“Do you think it
works?” I asked, holding it up to the light.
“Probably not,” Lira
replied with a casual shrug, “but it’s pretty.”
I smiled, feeling the
warmth of the festival break through the oppressive weight of my obligations.
But then, without warning, the wind changed. A single, frigid gust swept
through the square, extinguishing half the lanterns in an instant. The music
faltered, and the bonfire flickered ominously. A hush fell over the crowd like
a heavy shroud, and an unsettling tension rippled through the air.
And then, I saw it.
At the edge of the
square, half-shrouded in shadows and half-illuminated by the moonlight, stood a
figure. Tall, regal, and impossibly pale, with eyes that glinted like hollow
silver coins. A remnant, a soul from the Realm of Immorteum.
Lira’s hand found
mine, her grip tightening. “Don’t look at it.”
But I couldn’t tear my
gaze away.
The remnant tilted its
head, nostrils quivering as if it could scent the very fabric of the world
around it. Its gaze swept across the gathering villagers, lingering anxiously
before locking onto me. My heart stuttered, caught in a grip of fear mingled with
intrigue. It stepped forward through the chaos, moving with a grace that belied
its unsettling nature. The crowd erupted in panic, scattering toward their
homes, clutching their children and protective charms. But I stood rooted to
the spot, transfixed by something deeper than fear's icy grip. The remnant
halted mere paces away. Its voice was soft, a whisper carried on the wind,
reverberating through the chilling silence. “You should not be here, heir of
Orion.”
My throat tightened,
trying to form a response. “I only wanted to see the festival.”
“Veilfall is not for
the living,” it murmured, its tone sorrowful yet knowing. “Not for those whose
oaths are written in blood yet spilled.”
A chill crawled up my
spine at its words. “What do you mean?”
The remnant tilted its
head, its hollow gaze studying me with an unsettling tenderness that belied its
eerie presence. “The Realm of Immorteum remembers you,” it whispered, its voice
wrapping around me like a cold embrace. “And soon, you will remember it.”
“Come on,” Lira urged,
tugging at my arm. “We need to go. Now.”
But the remnant’s
hollow gaze didn’t waver from mine.
“Run, child of Orion,”
it commanded softly. “Before the Veil decides your fate tonight.”
That realization
shattered the spell, breaking my paralysis.
We ran.
Branches lashed
against our cloaks as we sprinted back through the darkened trees, the path
twisting beneath our feet like a serpentine shadow. The whispers of Immorteum
chased us, echoing in my ears like siren calls. When the gates of Castle Orion
finally loomed into view. Its torches flaring back to life in comforting gold.I
felt a rush of relief wash over me.
We stumbled inside,
gasping for breath, adrenaline pumping through our veins.
Lira leaned against
the wall, her face pale. “We are never doing that again.”
I nodded, still
reeling from the encounter, but my gaze drifted involuntarily to the ground
just inside the gate. A single flower lay there, black as the depths of
Immorteum, its petals dripping crimson like a promise of something dark to
come. A Veilfall rose. A warning that something, or someone, was coming.
The Oath of Blood and Roses Hearts Of Dalaria
Book One
C. M. Hano
Genre: Romantasy
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: May 6, 2024
ISBN: 9781509254347
ASIN: B0CW1JZGN4
Number of pages: 322 Word Count: 95,000
Cover Artist: Lea Schizas
Tagline: Love was never part of the oath.
Book Description:
Charming and arrogant, elite Ashana, Calian, has one serve his prince. He has never considered breaking his oath...until her.
Clover Celestia. The High Princess with a stubborn streak and a spark that incinerates his oath to ash. She’s nothing he expected and everything he needed.
Inch by inch, she slowly incinerates his defenses until he faces the truth—that all he wants is to mark his princess.
Because she’s his.
His goddess. His Fated.
Bound by the chains of her past, Princess Clover dreams of living freely. But when her parents are murdered, she’s suddenly thrust into a war she never knew existed.
As she navigates the choices—and betrayals—of her new role, she must also confront her desire for the man who forced her hand.
The Ashana. Her protector. Her Fated.
Unexpected and forbidden, theirs is a love that could destroy a realm... and doom them both.
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