ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

My world fell apart with one decision.

A foolish one, really, one I never would've dared to make. My world was never the image of perfection before the choice was made, but now it's certainly far from it. Eons. Miles. Doesn't matter the distance you use. But this.

This involves literal 'war'. Kingdom against kingdom. Blades sharpened, flesh pierced, and blood drawn.

And what am I? A bartering tool—one meant to mend the kingdoms together.

Or worse.

I storm into my father's study. Colossal windows span the back edges of the room, along with tall shelves around the perimeter filled with ancient scrolls and books. A few portraits of our family hang on the walls as a constant reminder of what we lost, and what our kingdom risks. A hearth burns at the far end beneath one of the tall windows, its warmth bubbling through the room. Yet, all that grazes the hairs on my arm is cold, stale air.

A fiery wrath hums beneath my fingertips, waiting to release and burn my father down.

"You said it'd never have to come to this," I spit, cheeks flushed and tear-rimmed eyes swelled. "You always said there were other ideas you would consider first."

My father winces as if I'd just slapped him across the cheek. "I'm running out of options."

"We could fight."

"That would lead us nowhere," he shakes his head, keeping his eyes on a scroll from the warfront. Its lettering scrawls across the page in franticness, in fear. "Hundreds have already died on our borders. We're losing territory, men, resources—the solution isn't to continue this way."

I hate to admit that he's right, but that would be giving in to his decision.

The kingdom of Lagulon, our coastal regime with the most powerful navy known, will never win a fight on foot. Our battles are fought against ruthless pirates on the sea, not other kingdoms. We were at peace with our neighbours, and even offered them our abundant resources of fish and crops in exchange for lumber and coal. But it wasn't enough to have them keep the peace between us. Any tether between us and them has snapped like a broken cord.

Months ago, the kingdom of Adorid stopped sending coal, forcing our men to search for coal deposits within our borders. My father reminded his noblemen and commanders that an agreement would be sorted soon. Whispers and rumours of an incoming war spread across the castle like a weed. Those rumours dug their roots into our soil, growing seeds of apprehension.

Our kingdom is one of peace, of unity.

War goes against everything that we are, and war is where we ended up.

Our borders transformed from meadows to wastelands of bloodshed and chaos. With every battle lost, we managed to scrap up the courage to enter into another. The pattern of loss became evident, and our strength dwindled.

Walls crumbled.

Cities fell.

Families broke.

Until Adorid, our neighbour, our enemy, sent an offer that would end this madness.

I pace the room, pulling at my moonlit gold hair.

My father's gaze follows me as I wander back and forth, "You can stop pacing and take a seat, if you will?"

I take a seat, although I fidget with the golden rings on my fingers. It's not like sitting down will still the storm beneath my skin. "How long do I have?"

Because now, my life is stuck on a timeline. It's only a matter of time before I go numb, before the sunlight fades.

My father's gaze travels to a portrait of him and my mother. "The details are undecided, but King Leighton is insistent on meeting you," he swallows at the mention of that damned king's name. "We're running out of options, Imogen, and agreeing to this will buy us more time."

A betrothal.

That's the solution to the war.

If I wed King Leighton of Adorid, then he will pull his men from our borders. A truce will form between our kingdoms. It's not like King Leighton is a complete stranger, either. He's younger than my father—old enough to wear a peppering grey head of hair, but it's not his age that sets me on edge. Tales of cruelty in brisk hurricanes of anger seep from his reputation. He's a man caged within a dark soul, and he intends to bind me in it too.

"He'll be arriving in seven days," my father announces. "We'll welcome him and his men for a feast to celebrate the ceasefire."

Tears stream down my cheeks. There's no use hiding behind a mask of courage with my father, because he can see through it all. He knows that this marriage will crush me, obliterate the walls of the stone heart I've forged for myself.

Through my tears and wheezing gasps, my father's chair squeaks. His calloused palms take hold of both my cheeks. His wedding band rubs over my tears as he wipes them away from my face.

"My beautiful little duckling," he forces a smile as he utters my childhood nickname. Memories flood inside of me: my mother helping the servants hang linens, of us skipping stones at the lake, of my father bracing me as we shoot arrows in the courtyards... My golden hair had always reminded my parents of a baby duck. I followed my parents around like a duckling follows her mother. As years drift by, I followed my parents less, but the nickname still remains. "Remember why you are doing this. The kingdom of Lagulon is indebted to you."

"You know you just gave away everything that I am," I retort with teeth gritted and eyes swollen. "You won't bear to watch your little duckling fade away day after day."

"Would you rather die by the sword?"

"We would find an alternative," I rasp. "Somehow, someway, we'll find another solution to this. He can't only desire marriage, can he?"

My father kneels before me, holding my cheeks, but his voice remains silent. I long for a word to break free, an assurance that this will only last for a moment.

Instead, his touch falls away. "Day after day, you will think of them. You will think of the families that don't have to lose a father or mother because they didn't have to go to war. You will think of the abundance our lands will achieve because their fields aren't transforming into a battlefield. Think of the prosperity, and the joy—"

"He'll want children," my voice falls flat. "Heirs."

Children. With that man? That king? I'd rather plunge a dagger into my heart.

"When you have his child, you will raise them the way I raised you," a tear rolls from his eyes. He too, abhors the idea of King Leighton and I. "I will love them until my last breath, just like I have loved you. When King Leighton passes, it will be you who reigns Adorid, then your sons, daughters, and whoever they wish to be. Our ancestors will be peacekeepers."

"And what if they take after him?"

What if Leighton's darkness consumes them? I fear that my light would not be enough to save them, when the flame inside of me isn't enough to save myself.

My father, the king, shakes his head in defeat. "I... I can't stop that, but if a part of them belongs to you, then we must cling onto hope."

What hope? Hope that Leighton will change? That I won't birth heirs that resemble monsters?

There are two choices a king can make when aiming to choose a worthy partner. The first is marrying for love, just as my parents have. Their love story is a tale that would nearly scare any nobleman away, but it's one I adored hearing time and time again as a child. My mother never spared any details, and my father would roll his grey eyes when she mentioned anything about my father's soft "mushy" heart.

The second is to marry for an alliance. It's to bridge two kingdoms together, to fortify their strengths by becoming one. This... this is what my father intends for me to do with Adorid.

I break away from my father's touch. I love this man more than anyone in this kingdom, and yet my heart shatters. Each shard cuts into the one adjacent to it, leaving me with a deepening ache that I don't know how to fill. I can't marry King Leighton.

I can't dim the fire inside of me like that.

But it's already too late.

I push back my chair. "I need some fresh air."

My father grasps onto my forearm, his grey eyes pleading as if to ask for forgiveness. But there's nothing he can do now. He's written my name on a dotted line, sending his own daughter off to end a war.

"Imogen..." he sighs, breathing out his last remnants of hope. "I wish it were different, but we've tried everything. We're losing a fight we can't win, and we need time to recollect ourselves."

"This isn't the answer," I spit out. Unfortunately, he has one detail about this right. This isn't about us. It's about them. The people of Lagulon. The families forged on our ancient lands. If this marriage protects them at my cost, then it's one that I must make. "But if this is the only way..."

Our privacy gets disturbed by a rasp knocking on the door. A man enters—that man being my father's second-in-command—Lorcan Tancard. His tall frame fills out the doorway, and his dark skin flickers off the rays of firelight lapping at his cheeks. Either way, his hazel eyes blaze with determination and loyalty. Sometimes, I find Lorcan to be a bit dull and mundane, but when you irk his annoyances enough he lights up in a pit of fury. I use it to my advantage in the courtyards when I have a little fun with my bow and arrow.

Nevertheless, toying with the man is one of my favourite past times.

Lorcan bows his head, paying respects to my father's elite title as king. "My king, a messenger has arrived from the Adoridian borders. He has further details about the betrothal between King Leighton and Imogen."

I wince at the word 'betrothal'. It's disgusting when marriage is far from what I want for myself. Well, just not like this.

"Is it something you can deal with?" my father asks, not wanting to leave me alone after dropping such a heavy weight on my shoulders.

Except, my father is the last man I need to be around.

I push away, turning my head towards the doorway. "No, you should go deal with your mess."

"Imogen, this is not a mess."

Oh, but it is. It's an explosion waiting to erupt and ensue chaos over my entire entity. Except, the people of Lagulon will never know the costs I pay for them.

Hell knew the price of peace came at selling a soul to the devil himself.

── •✧• ──

Hey everyone! I'm so happy that you decided to read chapter one of the new and improved Only After Nightfall! I just want to remind you that yes, there are plenty of similarities to the first draft, especially in terms of Imogen's story.

You will find that Tobin's character and backstory has been altered slightly. In fact, I feel this new version fleshes out his character and motives much better. Keep reading to meet our handsome, lovable thief before I spoil him too much!

Again, thanks for reading! Spare a vote or comment if you enjoyed the story thus far!