Heart of Ashes

Chapter 1

The dawn was breaking over the sprawling kingdom of Voluptaria, a realm dominated by lust and power, but most importantly, love. As the first light of dawn seeped into my chamber, the skies above Voluptaria were ablaze with shades of red--a fiery tapestry that mirrored the turmoil within my own heart. Today marked one week until my coronation, until I would officially take the throne as queen of this tempestuous realm. I lay in bed for a moment longer, allowing myself a rare few seconds of stillness before the day's whirlwind of duties swept me away.

I pushed the silken covers off and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet meeting the cold, stone floor. Rising, I walked toward the towering mirror that stood against the far wall. The reflection that stared back at me was that of a future queen: my skin, a rich deep brown, seemed almost aglow in the dim morning light; my tightly loc'd hair framed my face, each loc a testament to the complex heritage of the demons realm's diverse inhabitants; and my eyes, dark and thoughtful, reflected the weight of the crown I was soon to bear. Today will be filled with meetings and consultations--my last week as a princess was nothing short of a testament to the responsibility I was about to undertake. My first order of business was to meet with my council, a diverse group of advisers who helped navigate the complexities of ruling a realm like Voluptaria. "Lady Serena, the council awaits your presence in The Great Hall." called Lilian, my handmaiden, as she entered bearing a tray laden with a light breakfast. "Thank you, Lilian. Please tell them I'll be there shortly." I replied, turning from the mirror. I dressed quickly, choosing a flowing gown of deep burgundy that complemented my complexion, hugged my curves and marked my status. As I  fastened the clasp at my neck, I could feel the familiar flutter of nerves that came with leadership.

Walking through the corridors of the castle, the heavy tapestries that lined the walls muted the sounds of the bustling servants outside. The Great Hall was filled with the murmur of voices as I entered. My council, composed of battle-hardened generals, cunning sorcerers, and wise scholars fell silent as they turned to greet me. "Good morning." I greeted them, my voice steady despite the slight tremor I felt. "Let's begin. We have much to prepare before the coronation." As we discussed everything from security measures to the symbolism of the ceremony, I felt a growing sense of confidence. Each decision made was a step closer to my destiny. A destiny I was determined to meet with my head held high. As the morning wore on, my friends from among the nobility drifted in and out of my presence, each expressing their concerns about the days to follow. Lady Odessa, my childhood friend, entrusted sister not bound by blood, and confidante, lingered longer than most, her expression somber. "Are you truly ready for what next week holds, Serena?" Odessa asked, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. I managed a small, confident smile. "I must be. This kingdom needs a ruler strong enough to guide it through these tumultuous times." our conversation was cut short by the arrival of my Queen Mother, a regal figure dressed in flowing robes of scarlet red. Her presence commanded silence, and all discussions ceases as she approached me, her eyes scanning the room with an air of quiet authority. "Walk with me, daughter." she said, her voice a gentle command. Odessa nodded and curtsied as she waved me goodbye, excusing herself from the room. Together, we strolled through the corridors of the castle, the heavy tapestries muffling our steps as we discussed the weight of the crown. "You will be a great queen, Serena. Your father is insisted on it. But a queen must also think of the lineage. Securing the throne not just with power, but with family." the Queen Mother advised, her tone laced with urgency.

I am only the age of 20. The ideologies of a family hadn't quite crossed my mind. At least, not in the serious notion that my dearest mother was explaining to me. In the back of my mind, I had already knew who I wanted to be my King. His name was Azazel. King of Pridaxis. The Pride Ring, taken after his father had fell sick. Rumors spread that he was poisoned. Others, a fate of time.  Azazel wasn't much like his father, taking too much pride in his title. Boasting of all his earnings from the countless battles he had won, or the amount of women he had abed outside of his betrothed wife. My mother knew very little about him, as did the rest of the realms. Azazel made sure there weren't too many eyes and lingering around his castle after his crowning. If it's one thing he'll take pride in, it's keeping to himself. Azazel was quieter, wittier than most. He held a distinct aura about him that made him seem like he hadn't come from either of his parents, but a lone bastard who was taken in by the graces of the Gods, learning to adapt to this newfound life of his, always keeping his last one in mind. Me and him grew up together, before the realms were split, back when I was just a little girl, the ages of seven and ten, I believe. The Red War drove us all apart. I never seen him since then. Without my mother's knowledge, I receive raven-sent letters from him in the middle of the night. He speaks of not wanting to be King of Pride, fearful in the projections of his late father. I told him that when I am queen, he is to make his way over to Voluptaria, declaring his position as the fitted King of the Lust Ring, bringing the two realms together, being prideful in our shared love.

I felt a twinge of annoyance but masked it quickly. "I am aware, Mother. And I do have someone in mind." I replied, my voice even, giving away nothing of my feeling about the one I secretly hoped could be my king. The Queen Mother stopped and faced me. Her eyes searching mine. "And who might this be? The court is rife with speculation." I looked away, toward the window where the first light of day makes the dew on the gardens sparkle. "It is not yet time to reveal him. but I do believe he is someone who will bring great strength and honor to Voluptaria." Unsatisfied but knowing better than to press further, Queen Mother sighed. "Very well. But do not wait too long, Serena. The people, and indeed the noble, will need to see unity and a clear succession." as we parted ways, my thoughts drifted to the hidden figure in my heart, the one I dared not to reveal. I knew the challenges ahead would be fraught with both danger and opportunity, but i was determined to face them as I always have been: with courage and quiet resolve. The rest of the day passes in a blur of preparation and whispered conversations. As I retired to my chambers that evening, I knew that the morrow would bring with it not only the weight of the crown but the hopes and dreams of an entire kingdom. My  heart was heavy with the responsibility, yet aligned with the possibility of what could be if only I could make my secret love my king.

As the castle settled into the quiet of the night, I gazed out at the stars, my thoughts a tangled web of duty and desire, knowing that the path I would soon walk was one few could tread without sacrifice. As the evening sky bled into the darkest shades of crimson above Voluptaria, a raven landed softly on my window sill, it's black eyes gleaming with an unspoken secret. Attached to its leg was a small scroll, sealed with the emblem I knew all too well -- Azazel's. My heart skipped a beat as I reached for the message, my fingers brushing the cool feathers of the messenger. Unraveling the parchment with a mix of anticipation and a haunting familiarity, I read Azazel's words, each one a stroke of shadow in the dim light:

"My dearest Serena,

The night whispers your name, and the wind carries your essence across the miles that separate us. As the hour of your coronation approaches, my heart beats in a wild rhythm, painted with both pride and a longing so deep it borders on agony.

I watch from the shadows, always near yet far, my soul intertwined with yours in this dance of destiny. Each day that passes in a step closer to when I can emerge from the darkness and claim my place by your side, no longer as a specter but as your avowed king, bound by blood and shadow. In the stillness of the night, I send you whispers of devotion, each word dripping with the promise of a love that defies the constraints of our realms. Think of me, my love, as you stand on the brink of your new reign. Feel my presence enveloping you, a cloak woven from the threads of my fidelity and desire. Soon, we will reunite under the blood-red skies of our kingdom, no longer to part. Until then, let the darkness comfort you, let it remind you of the unbreakable bond we share.

Forever yours in the night,

Azazel"

His words wrapped around me like a dark velvet caress, stirring the embers of a love that thrives in the shadows of our reality. Placing the letter in a box under my bed, I felt a surge of courage ripple through me, fueled by the passion of his vow. Tonight, I would surrender to sleep under the guardianship of his words, allowing them to haunt my dreams and fortify my resolve. As I lay down, the room seemed to grow darker, more intimate, as if Azazel himself had drawn the night closer to me. His letter, a beacon of our dark romance, promised that soon the solitude of my reign would be but a fleeting shadow before the dawn of our union.