A year had passed, and things had changed between Everthorns and Drach. Though engaged, Easton and Marlowe lived separately, each tending to their royal duties.
Easton, now seventeen, had grown into an even more capable ruler. His court had slowly come to accept his decision, but not without challenges. Some nobles still plotted in the shadows, displeased that he had chosen Marlowe over a more politically advantageous match.
Marlowe, at sixteen, was preparing herself for the inevitable—one day, she would leave Everthorns and rule beside Easton. Though she missed him, she buried herself in her studies, learning not just the politics of her own kingdom but also those of Drach. Queen Evera kept a watchful eye on her daughter, ensuring that Marlowe remained aware of her responsibilities.
Despite the distance, they still found ways to communicate. Letters were exchanged frequently, and sometimes, in secret, Easton would ride to Everthorns, just to see her from afar.
But as time passed, whispers of new threats began to surface. There were those who would rather see the engagement broken—by any means necessary.
Something was coming. And neither Easton nor Marlowe knew how soon their love would be tested.
_
Just as Marlowe was settling into her role as Easton’s future queen, a sudden shift disrupted everything—the return of her older brother, Prince Hadrian, the rightful heir to Everthorns.
Hadrian had been away for a year, sent abroad for his studies, away from the kingdom’s politics. But now, as he stepped back into the castle, his presence sent a ripple through the royal court. Tall, sharp-eyed, and carrying the quiet authority of a true heir, he was everything a future king should be.
Marlowe had always known she was second-born, that her duty was to serve Everthorns in whatever way her parents decided. But with Hadrian’s return, everything felt… uncertain. He had missed everything—the engagement trials, the conflict with Lord Frederick, the political games that had nearly torn Marlowe apart. Would he approve of her engagement to Easton? Or would he stand against it?
At the grand dining hall that night, Hadrian observed her quietly before finally speaking.
“So, little sister, I leave for a year, and when I return, I find you engaged to the King of Drach.” His voice was calm, but Marlowe could feel the weight behind his words.
Marlowe met his gaze, refusing to waver. “Yes. And I chose him.”
Hadrian studied her for a moment, then turned his sharp eyes to their father. “And what does Everthorns gain from this?”
Silence.
Then, King Alden sighed. “Stability. Strength. A future.”
Hadrian didn’t reply immediately, but something in his expression darkened.
Hadrian came only for on purpose , to talk and let go
The entire hall fell silent. Hadrian’s words echoed through the chamber like a sudden storm.
“I don’t care about the throne anymore.” His voice was calm, but firm. “I came back only to tell you—I have a child, born out of wedlock. I don’t want to be king. I don’t want to be tied to this kingdom anymore.”
King Alden’s grip on his goblet tightened. Queen Evera’s face paled, her expression unreadable. Marlowe, sitting across from Hadrian, stared at her brother, trying to process what he had just said.
A prince… refusing his birthright?
“You abandoned the throne for a child?” Queen Evera’s voice was sharp, disbelieving.
Hadrian leaned back in his chair, unfazed. “I abandoned the throne for my own life. I never wanted this crown, Mother. And now, I finally have something to live for—something that isn’t this kingdom.”
Marlowe’s heart clenched. She had spent her whole life preparing to serve Everthorns, whether through duty, marriage, or politics. But Hadrian had always been free—until now.
“What do you plan to do, then?” King Alden asked, his voice dangerously low.
“I’m leaving,” Hadrian answered simply. “I only came to tell you. I won’t be part of this anymore.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and unbreakable.
Then, to everyone’s shock, King Alden simply sighed. “Then go.”
Hadrian hesitated. He had expected more resistance—anger, betrayal. But his father’s eyes held something else. Understanding? Resignation?
“I was forced into a role I never wanted,” King Alden said, glancing at Queen Evera. “I won’t force the same on you.”
Queen Evera, however, looked furious. But she said nothing.
Hadrian slowly stood, his gaze lingering on Marlowe. “Take care of yourself, raven.”
Raven was a nickname that Hadrian used to call his little sister when they were little
And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving behind the crown that was meant to be his.
The entire court was left in shock as Hadrian walked away, but before he could fully leave, the castle attendants entered—carrying a newborn wrapped in soft linen.
“The child’s mother… she did not survive,” one of the attendants said softly. “Before she passed, she wished for the child to be brought here.”
Hadrian barely turned to look. His face remained cold, distant. “Then he’s yours now,” he said without emotion. “Raise him however you see fit. He has nothing to do with me.”
Marlowe’s breath caught in her throat. “Hadrian, this is your son.”
“No,” he said firmly. “He’s your nephew. Not my son. I won’t be his father. I won’t be a prince. I won’t be an heir.” His gaze hardened. “I am leaving Everthorns today. Don’t try to find me.”
Queen Evera’s hands clenched at her sides, her face unreadable. King Alden remained silent, watching his son walk away for the last time.
The baby let out a small cry, unaware of the storm his existence had caused.
Marlowe, despite everything, stepped forward. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached for the child. The moment her fingers brushed the soft fabric, a strange sense of responsibility filled her.
Hadrian had abandoned the child. The court was in chaos. And now… this tiny life was in her hands.
“What shall we do with him, Your Majesty?” an attendant asked King Alden.
The King exhaled slowly. Then, his gaze turned to Marlowe.
“He will be raised as a prince of Everthorns,” he declared. “And from this day forward, Princess Marlowe will be responsible for him.”
Marlowe’s eyes widened. “Father—”
But Alden simply nodded. “You are to be queen one
_ 
Back in Drach Castle, Easton sat at the long council table, surrounded by his advisors. The weight of his responsibilities had grown heavier with each passing day. Though he was only seventeen, he ruled as if he had been on the throne for decades.
His right-hand man, Lord Alric, cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, the latest reports from the northern borders indicate minor unrest, but nothing that requires immediate action.”
Easton nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts elsewhere. His mind kept drifting to Everthorns. To Marlowe. It had been a year since they had lived separately, focusing on their respective duties. And now, news had reached him that Hadrian had abandoned the throne—and left behind a child.
Marlowe was now responsible for raising an infant prince.
Easton clenched his jaw. She always carried burdens that weren’t hers to bear.
“Your Majesty?” Alric prompted.
Easton blinked, realizing he had zoned out. “Continue,” he commanded, his voice steady.
The meeting continued, but by the time it ended, Easton had already made up his mind.
That evening, as he stood on the castle balcony overlooking his kingdom, he made a decision.
It was time to visit Everthorns.
_ 
The next morning, Easton wasted no time. He summoned his trusted guards and advisors, making preparations for his journey to Everthorns.
Lord Alric frowned at the sudden decision. “Your Majesty, traveling to Everthorns without prior notice might be seen as reckless. Would it not be wiser to send a formal message first?”
Easton shook his head. “No. If I send word, it will take too long, and they may try to stop me. I must see Marlowe myself.”
Alric sighed, realizing there was no convincing Easton otherwise. “Very well. I will arrange the necessary preparations.”
Within hours, Easton was on horseback, leading a small escort through the vast lands between Drach and Everthorns. The journey was long, but his resolve never wavered.
By the time they reached the grand castle gates of Everthorns, night had fallen. The guards, recognizing him instantly, hesitated before stepping aside.
“I wish to see Princess Marlowe,” Easton declared, his voice unwavering.
One of the guards nodded. “She’s in the royal nursery, Your Majesty. With the prince.”
Easton’s chest tightened. He had heard of Hadrian’s abandonment, but seeing Marlowe raising a child that wasn’t hers… it unsettled him.
With quick steps, he made his way through the halls, past familiar corridors, until he reached the nursery.
He pushed open the doors and froze at the sight before him.
Marlowe stood by the cradle, gently rocking the infant in her arms. She looked tired—more exhausted than he had ever seen her. The moment she lifted her gaze and saw him, her lips parted in surprise.
“Easton?” she whispered, careful not to wake the child.
He stepped forward, his heart pounding. “Marlowe.”
For a long moment, they simply stared at each other. Then, without thinking, Easton crossed the room and cupped her cheek. “You look exhausted,” he murmured.
She gave a weak smile. “I am.”
He exhaled, brushing his thumb gently over her cheek. “Then let me take some of this burden from you.”
Marlowe’s eyes softened. “You came all this way… for me?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’d come even farther if it meant standing by your side.”
Easton arrived at Everthorns Castle after weeks of traveling, eager to see Marlowe again. However, before he could even greet her properly, he was introduced to someone unexpected—her infant nephew.
The castle servants carefully handed the baby to Marlowe, who cradled him with practiced ease. Easton watched as she gently rocked the child, his sharp gaze softening. He had never seen Marlowe like this before—so tender, so maternal.
Marlowe glanced up at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Meet my nephew," she said. "Hadrian left him here when he... decided to go his own way."
Easton stepped closer, studying the tiny bundle wrapped in soft linens. "So, your brother abandoned his own child?" His voice held a hint of disapproval.
Marlowe sighed. "He didn’t want to be tied down by duty—not to the throne, not to his son." She looked down at the baby, her expression unreadable. "So now, he's mine to protect."
Easton reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the baby’s small hand. The child instinctively gripped his finger. Something stirred in his chest—an unfamiliar warmth, a sense of responsibility.
"You care for him like he's your own," Easton observed.
Marlowe met his gaze. "Because someone has to."
A moment of silence passed between them. Then, Easton smirked slightly. "He seems to like me."
Marlowe chuckled. "Be careful. If you hold him once, he might never let go."
"Then perhaps," Easton said, his voice softer, "I’ll have to get used to it."
They stood together in that quiet moment—two young rulers, bound by duty, yet finding solace in something far more personal.
_
Marlowe’s younger sister entered the room, her expression a mixture of curiosity and amusement. She was just fifteen, but she carried herself with a quiet maturity beyond her years.
"So, this is the great King Easton," she teased, folding her arms. "I expected someone taller."
Easton raised an eyebrow, smirking at the boldness. "And I expected Marlowe's sister to be less... sharp-tongued."
Marlowe chuckled, shaking her head. "Easton, this is my younger sister, Princess—"
"—I can introduce myself," the girl interrupted, stepping forward. "I'm Seraphina. And you’re the man my sister is supposed to marry."
Easton met her gaze, intrigued by her straightforward nature. "Yes, I am."
Seraphina studied him for a moment before nodding approvingly. "Good. You don’t seem too bad. Just know that if you ever hurt her, I’ll make sure you regret it."
Marlowe sighed. "Sera, please."
Easton, instead of being offended, chuckled. "I wouldn’t expect anything less from Marlowe’s sister."
Seraphina smirked, satisfied with his response. Then, she turned her attention to the baby in Marlowe’s arms. "He’s finally asleep?"
Marlowe nodded. "He had a long morning."
Seraphina softened at the sight of her tiny nephew. "I can take him to his crib if you want some time alone with your future husband."
Marlowe blushed slightly but handed the baby over. "Thank you, Sera."
As Seraphina left the room with the baby, Easton glanced at Marlowe. "She’s protective of you."
Marlowe smiled. "She has always been. Just like I am with her."
Easton nodded, watching Seraphina disappear down the hall. "Your family is different from mine. Warmer."
Marlowe reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. "Then maybe, one day, you’ll feel like you’re part of it too."
Easton held onto her hand a little longer, realizing that perhaps, he already was.
As Easton and Marlowe stood together, a quiet understanding passing between them, a knock on the door interrupted the moment. A royal attendant stepped inside, bowing respectfully.
"Your Majesty, King Alden requests your presence in the council chamber."
Marlowe and Easton exchanged glances. They both knew that any official summons from King Alden meant something serious.
"Very well," Easton replied, straightening his posture. "I’ll be there shortly."
As the attendant left, Marlowe sighed. "I have a feeling this isn't just a normal meeting."
Easton nodded. "Neither do I."
They made their way through the grand halls of Everthorns Castle, where the atmosphere felt heavier than usual. The moment they entered the council chamber, they saw King Alden seated at the head of the long table, Queen Evera by his side. Several noble advisors stood around, their expressions unreadable.
"Easton," King Alden greeted, his voice calm but firm. "Take a seat."
Easton did as instructed, Marlowe sitting beside him. "Your Majesty, what is this about?"
King Alden exhaled slowly before speaking. "There have been reports of unrest in Drach. It seems not everyone is pleased with your decision to take Marlowe as your fiancée."
Easton stiffened. "Are you saying there’s opposition within my court?"
Queen Evera spoke next, her tone sharp. "More than just opposition. We have intelligence that suggests Lord Frederick and some of his allies are stirring rebellion against you."
Marlowe clenched her fists. "Frederick again?"
King Alden nodded. "It appears he has not given up. He is rallying support under the claim that your rule is unstable, and that you are unfit to lead if you allow personal emotions to cloud your judgment."
Easton’s jaw tightened. "So, he is questioning my rule?"
"Not just questioning," King Alden said gravely. "He is challenging it."
A tense silence followed, until Marlowe broke it. "Then what do we do?"
King Alden turned to Easton. "That is up to you, King of Drach. How will you handle this threat?"
Easton took a deep breath, his mind already calculating the best course of action. He had expected resistance to his engagement with Marlowe, but a rebellion—this was another level of betrayal.
"I will not let Frederick and his allies threaten my rule," Easton said firmly. "If they challenge my authority, I will answer them as a king should."
Marlowe placed a hand on his arm, sensing the anger rising within him. "We need to be careful, Easton. If Frederick is rallying nobles against you, then open conflict could weaken your reign. We need a strategy."
King Alden nodded approvingly at her words. "Your fiancée is right. Rushing into battle may not be the wisest choice. There are ways to dismantle Frederick's plans without giving him what he wants—a war."
Easton exhaled sharply. "Then tell me, what would you advise?"
Queen Evera, despite her usual cold demeanor toward Easton, spoke with a calculated tone. "You need to find out who among your court is loyal to you and who is not. Frederick cannot do this alone. Someone inside Drach is helping him."
A spy.
Marlowe looked at Easton. "We need to return to Drach immediately. We have to find out who is feeding him information before he gains more power."
King Alden agreed. "You should take trusted soldiers with you. If this rebellion grows stronger, you may need to act quickly."
Easton clenched his fists but nodded. "I will handle this. I will not let Frederick take what is mine."
Marlowe stood beside him. "Then I’m going with you."
Queen Evera’s expression darkened. "No, you are not."
Marlowe turned to her mother. "I am his fiancée. If his rule is in danger, then so is my future. I will stand with him."
King Alden glanced at Evera before sighing. "Let her go. She has already proven where her loyalty lies."
Evera looked at her daughter for a long moment before finally nodding, though she was clearly displeased.
"It is settled then," Easton said. "We leave at dawn."
As the meeting ended, Marlowe and Easton walked through the halls together.
"Are you ready for this?" Easton asked her quietly.
Marlowe looked up at him with determination in her eyes. "I have to be."
The battle for Drach had begun, but the real fight was just beginning.
At dawn, Easton and Marlowe rode out of Everthorns with a company of trusted knights. The journey back to Drach was swift, urgency pushing them forward. When they arrived at the castle, Easton’s instincts immediately told him something was off.
The air was thick with tension. The guards at the gate looked hesitant, their eyes darting away when they saw Easton. Servants moved quickly through the halls, avoiding his gaze.
Marlowe leaned toward him as they dismounted. "They know something."
Easton clenched his jaw. "Or they’re afraid."
They entered the grand hall, where Easton’s advisors and nobles were already gathered. The moment he stepped inside, silence fell.
"Your Majesty," one of his closest advisors, Lord Renard, spoke first. "There have been… troubling developments in your absence."
Easton’s gaze hardened. "Speak plainly."
Renard hesitated before saying, "Lord Frederick has declared you unfit to rule. He is calling for a council to determine your future as king."
Marlowe’s breath caught. "A coup," she whispered.
Easton’s expression was unreadable. "And who among you supports him?"
No one spoke.
Then, a voice echoed through the hall.
"I do."
Easton turned sharply. A tall man stepped forward from the shadows—a nobleman Easton once considered loyal.
Lord Cedric.
"You were always too reckless, Easton," Cedric said coolly. "You let an outsider—an Everthorns princess—whisper in your ear, and now you make decisions based on emotion rather than strategy. Frederick offers stability. You offer uncertainty."
Marlowe stepped beside Easton, her presence steady. "What Frederick offers is manipulation and betrayal."
Cedric smirked. "And what do you offer, Princess? A foreign queen for Drach?"
Easton’s patience snapped. "I offer a kingdom that will not be ruled by traitors."
Tension thickened.
"Then prove it," Cedric said, his smirk growing. "The council meets in two days. If you truly believe you deserve the throne, face us there. Otherwise, surrender it now."
Easton’s eyes burned with fury, but he forced himself to stay calm.
"I will see you at the council," he said. "And when I do, there will be no doubt who the true ruler of Drach is."
Cedric gave a mock bow before stepping back.
Marlowe placed a hand on Easton’s arm. "We have two days to uncover the truth. To find out who else is betraying you."
Easton exhaled sharply, his mind already forming a plan.
"Then we don’t waste a second."