Chapter 1

Before Killian, stood a massive army. His army. They were poised to venture into the fertile land of Kildare highlighted in the distance by the crimson, orange and violet of sunset. After four years of serving, thriving, then three years in charge, these men were stronger than ever. Standing in straight, intimidating lines they had become stronger, sharper, more fierce than any other army in Tara under Killian's leadership.

Expressionless, keen eyes on the horizon, these men were ready to fight for his mission, months in the making. God knew his brother, Dakarta, never could have handled strengthening the army. He much more enjoyed his plush life than training to be King.

The warm summer breeze blew gently at Killian's face, tugging at the raven waves grazing his shoulders. Polished black armor gleamed in the sunlight with crimson cape fluttering behind. Rolling mossy hills stood at his back, strong lines of mountains lush with trees wrapped around. The majestic geological features bordering the kingdom of Kildare were blessed with many quarries of rare minerals tucked away in those ranges.

Bordering the Great Sea, Kildare's rich soil, green hills flourished in agriculture and would nurture his ambition perfectly. His broad chest swelled with admiration of the unmatched beauty of this kingdom which was all swiftly about to be his. Even his stead padded the ground eager to run.

Killian tightly wrapped his gauntlet clad fingers around the reins. His brows furrowed deeply, mind lost in thought. How dare Kildare's King reject Killian's offer of marriage to the auburn-haired princess. His cheeks burned under his helmet remembering how Kildare's king belittled his ambitions. After all Killian had accomplished by his twenty-first year, success noother royal had found, still Kildare's king found Killian lacking.

"Killian! Brother."

Killian's gauntleted hand tightened around his trusty sword. The hum of power tingled up his arm from the stone gilded hilt. It did little to calm the growing anger pulsing through his veins. At the sound of his brother's voice, Killian's jaw clenched.

"Go home, Dakarta. We attack at midnight."

"Brother, please hear me! Just wait a few more months and ask again."

In his peripheral vision, Killian took in Dakarta's unwanted arrival. In all his velvety King regalia, the elder brother guided his horse to a halt parallel to Killian's. He inhaled deeply, noticing his men in their vicinity bow their heads in respect to King Dakarta.

A muscle in Killian's jaw ticked. "No."

"What of the treaty, hmm? You will shatter the peace between our lands that has lasted three generations!"

"I do not care. I will have her."

"But what of Oriel? We will lose the food trade agreement with Kildare."

The corner of Killian's lips quirked upward. "All I need is Oriel's iron and I have it in my army."

Killian made a move to ride around his brother, but Dakarta reached out and grabbed his arm. Glaring at his brother, Killian shook out of Dakarta's grip.

"Do not be an impulsive brat, Killian! This is not the proper way to handle a rejected proposal." Dakarta pointed a scolding finger, throwing up his arms adding, "You can have any woman you want. Rank does not even matter since you will not be Ki-"

"I will be a King!" Killian's voice echoed through the air, causing his horse to pad at the grass.

Dakarta flinched, backing his horse away.. Head shaking, he spoke again. "Father would be against this."

"Father," Killian snarled, "is no longer here to stop me."