Hills of black awaited, luring me to the distant battle ground. A pall of gloom hung in the air, causing the soil to alter in color. The Dead Lands. Lifeless and desolate. A lost place destroyed by the selfishness of humans when war once waged.

From afar, I could see their swords and spears. Ghosts of the past fought on the grounds, digging their heels into sodden soil as metal clanged against metal. Weapons lifted and blood shed as they cried out for mercy, justice and death.

Some begged to live, but their pleas were unheard. The stench of earth and rust were the only thing left behind by the fallen men.

My Ronian fought a war so these souls could move on. In order for them to know peace within their deaths, he battled our adversary for freedom and gave our people hope in these dour times. Since the conflict in the south raged, our kind needed all the help we could garner. They followed their own leader, ignoring the rest of the world.

Beyond the mountain, the Emperor awaited our joining in the alliance. If it was not to come, I wasn't sure of what would become of our kingdom. He was a ruthless man who did not like to be kept waiting.

My thoughts drowned with the sound of the water trickling from the porcelain fountain. The spouts from the top were feeding into a crystal-blue waterfall, landing in a pool below. A statue of a heroic and loved man stood above the spouts. Henning, my father's brother. Stone-made and stout. His steely sockets fixed on mine.

My father told me stories but I had never met him. Henning was beloved by all. He was to be king rather than my father. He fought for our people and our freedom. Kaija saw Henning as a hero. He challenged the first Udanian. If only he had returned after.

Even though I wanted to continue basking in the sun's kiss as it faded from the earth, I preferred to cower in my thoughts. It was the only place I wished to go to in Ronian's absence.

In my recollections, he and I were holding hands, painted under the moonlight, just like the first night he proclaimed his love to me. A tingle rushed through my body as I thought of his lips against mine. A night I would never forget.

"Tara?" a rugged voice called from behind.

I turned and met Cyril, one of my father's guards. The black leather armor encased his body, fitting snug against his pale flesh like a glove to skin. The only metal were plates on his shoulders and along his torso. His pale arms remained visible through the folds of the linen, but his hands hid under gauntlets. He always bore lovely, vivid green eyes, which I had known all my life. His silver hair glistened in the sun as it cascaded down his back in waves. With the stench in the air, I couldn't smell his usual scent of lavender and berries.

He was my oldest friend other than Ronian, one I valued.

"Yes?"

Cyril wasn't usually the one to fetch me. My father would send a servant if he ever needed me. The fact that he sent Cyril made me believe something was amiss.

His face tightened, appearing grim. I could tell by the look I was right. "Your father has requested your presence immediately."

I drew in a deep breath and moved past him. I couldn't imagine what Father would have wanted. It must have not been important enough to ask himself.

I passed the fountain into the tent. Outside, the odor of rust freed me from its grip. The tent rose to the heights of a fortress and stretched, reaching toward the Dead Lands. Its cloth was a rich red, like our foes' blood.

My father wished to live simply. A castle was no place for a king because a king belonged on the battlegrounds.

I swept through the folds of the flaps and stepped onto dirt. The soles of my bare feet were cold compared to outside. The wooden banister in the center of the grand room stood in the way of my vision, making it difficult to see.

Stepping around it, I found Father atop his throne with a solemn expression. His cold, gray orbs stared at me like I was a ghost lost in the afterlife. His face was paler than before, blanching with each step I took. He donned robes of black threaded with gold. His hair colored white like snow, falling to the nape of his neck. The robe touched the ground, melding with Mother's long golden dress embroidered with black. Next to him, she sat, staring at the ground, her silver hair hanging over her face in ringlets.

"Did you make a request for me?"

He looked at my mother and she tilted her head, giving him a sidelong glance. Then turned back to me, his gaze intent.

"I did." His strong voice broke.

"What is your reason for doing so?"

"I fear the news will bring you ill will," he said, clearing his throat. "And that's the last thing I wish to do."

"Just tell me, Father," I spat, batting my foot to the ground in impatience. "I don't want ignorance to fester."

He inhaled deeply and nodded. "Tara, my daughter, my world... I regret to inform you that Ronian did not make it home today."

Father was not fond of Ronian as my lover, but he knew he was my greatest friend. Ronian and I were always by each other's sides even when we were children. I could recall many memories with him. Especially meeting him for the first time. It was—

His words sunk in.

Ronian, the reason I breathed.

The moon to the stars in the night.

As my throat dried, my gut tightened. "What do you mean?"

He stood, stepping down from the wooden dais and onto the dirt, striding over to me. His footsteps echoed like a march to death while his hand fell to my shoulder. I saw the sorrow in his eyes as he looked at me. "I am afraid he is dead."

My mind numbed. The words spoken played over in my mind. Everything was surreal, even the breath I breathed felt fabricated.

"Dead," I echoed, my heart shattering. "Dead?"

"Aye."

I shook my head. "He can't be," I argued, moving back. My father's hand fell. "He wouldn't be."

"Tara, I know this is not the news you hoped for, but—"

"No!" I shouted in denial, heart pounding in my ears. "He is going to return home. He promised we would wed."

Ronian was going to come through the entrance at any given moment, laughing. This was all a cruel joke. This was all to make me worry. Father liked to put me in these situations. He hated my happiness.

"Tara..."

"No!" I shrieked, the hot tears leaking down my face. "He will be home tomorrow. He promised." He would take me in his arms. Any minute now. "I know it!"

"This is a lot to process," Mother murmured from her gilded throne, staring with sky blue eyes similar to mine. The sorrow in hers mimicked my own. "I know you must be enduring a lot of pain but know we are here for you in this troubling time."

At one time, my mother's voice would have been a comfort, but more than anything I didn't want to hear her. She was not one to lie, and that made my father's news all the more real.

Ronian was not walking through the entrance.

He was not coming home.

He would never come home.

I screeched as my throat tightened, tears blurring my vision.

He was dead.

"What happened?" I was taken aback by my weeping, stumbling as I stepped back. "Tell me, please. Tell me!"

My father grimaced. It felt like a thousand lives had begun and ended before he spoke. "He was ambushed by a savage," he explained. "From the North."

Savages from the North.

Udanians.

Filthy, horrid savages.

They killed him.

I sniffled, my emotions shifting from confusion to denial. "He isn't dead," I whispered, hardening my voice. "I know it and I know him. He probably is in hiding waiting to be found. Ronian isn't weak. He would find a way back, he would—"

"Tara..." Father's voice fell sullen.

They didn't believe me. They never believed me. Ronian was fine. Someone just had to give him some extra help. Udanians came in numbers and Ronian was only one man no matter how strong.

"I will find him myself," I snarled. "And bring him back here alive and well."

"My sweet girl, please, stop burdening yourself with lies," Mother whispered. "Please."

In lies truth lingered.

"I speak the truth only my heart knows."

"Think clearly, my daughter. Do not make foolish decisions under the influence of grief," he ordered. "If you throw yourself into danger, you would be forsaking not only your family but your people."

I knew he was referring to himself. The King's flawless status would be jeopardized if his daughter fled. His people would look down on him if I was to vanish. The king's troublesome daughter vanishing would be detrimental to his status.

I had always been a mischievous child, but I never thought I would flee home. But love was on my mind, and I wasn't going to let it die easily. I would strive to keep it alive for as long as possible. They didn't understand what we had. They only married each other out of convenience to keep peace between our people and the people of Sonwil.

"I've never thought clearer," I hissed, fleeing from the room and down the hall. I didn't take the time to stare back at my parents. I was sure they were sporting a look of disappointment and disapproval. It was a look I was used to. The only one who didn't look at me that way was Lea. I thought of her and the day I learned she disappeared.

"What are you doing, princess?" Cyril asked, standing on the other side of the fountain. He held his arms to his chest, staring quizzically. "Your father has been looking for you."

I groaned, outstretching on the edge and shifted, lying on my back. The water splashed on my face and as it did, I looked at Cyril. "I just wanted some peace. I already told the servants to leave me be."

"Royalty never gets peace," he answered, walking to my side. "Especially when you are to be allied with Silian." He paused, his words hanging in the air. Ever since my father agreed to ally with Silian in trades and war, I was constantly asked for. I swear, I never got a moment to myself anymore. Cyril interrupted my thoughts, continuing, "Speaking of..."

I could tell by the change in his tone and the shift in his face that something was amiss. When Cyril came to seek me out, bad news usually came with him.

"No," I protested, not letting him finish. I knew the words before they left his lips. I sat up fast, standing to my feet. "Don't tell me what I think you're about to..."

He sighed, a somber look overturning his face. Cyril was a kind and genuine friend. I knew he wouldn't lie to me but I wished he would right now. The expression on his face told me everything. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach.

"So it's true, then? Lea is bound for Silian?"

He nodded, avoiding my gaze. "I'm afraid so."

I scoffed, shaking my head. My blood boiled like a cauldron. It didn't surprise me that Father would do this. Since choosing to unite with Silian, we had to cut ourselves off from the rest of the world. It would only be a matter of time before I joined Lea in Silian wearing shackles, praising the feet of the cruel and unruly man they called Emperor.

"My father is doing this to get to me," I hissed. "Because I am not the perfect princess he desires. He thinks if he takes away everything I hold dear, I will break."

I expected Cyril to say something more, but there was only so much to say.

"I am sorry, Tara," he whispered. "I wish there was something to be done."

Lea was gone. Ronian was gone. Now I was alone.

I sniffled, the memory fading away. The only person who I thought could understand me was in Silian now. Taken from me right before Ronian was sent to battle. I wanted to imagine she would return like a knight in shining armor and save me from this nightmare but it wasn't plausible. Even though Cyril was still here with me, it felt like he was fading away. The kind and gentle soul I knew was vanishing before my eyes and becoming my father's dog.

Taking a turn, I entered my bedroom, flicking the flaps to the side until it fell back into its place. I threw myself onto the bed and sobbed into the sheets. I wept not only for myself, but for my Ronian and the love between us severed.