Royals of Ruemri Book I: Betrothal

Prologue

WARNING: The following story contains explicit language, depictions of violence, references to childhood trauma, scenes depicting sexual assault, discussions of hermaphrodism, and mpreg elements that may be unsuitable for certain readers. Reader discretion is advised.

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HIGH KING Alizade repressed another long sigh as High Commander Salav and his Lieutenant tried to pry his son and the young faie apart from ripping each other's throats out.

It was supposed to be a happy morning.

Awakening to the gentle embrace of sunlight streaming through his window, the symphony of birdsong in the trees, and the cheerful hustle of maids beyond his door, diligently readying the castle for yet another tranquil day. Eager anticipation coursed through the High King, eager for profound discussions with his faie guests. His foremost goal: securing the peace that safeguarded the harmony between the Ruemri Empire and the Twelve Clans.

He was not, however, prepared to see his only heir swing a fist at their guest's son in the middle of the White Garden.

God, what a mess this had become.

He froze in shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging agape, as the small, young faie boy unexpectedly swung a tiny fist at Raffe, sending him careening backward with an audible thud upon the garden floor. High King Alizade battled the impulse to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Despite their diminutive appearance, the faie folk held an astonishing strength as guardians of the Woodlands — a trait that extended even to their youngest members.

After a fleeting moment of disorientation, Raffe, his face flushed crimson with anger, let out a thunderous roar and lunged forward, aiming another blow at the faie boy. Thankfully, in the nick of time, High Commander Salav and Lieutenant Renon intervened. They quickly separated the two boys, quelling the impending altercation.

After a lot of thrashing, Salav boomed a loud, "Enough!" and the two boys stopped and glared deadly daggers at each other instead.

High King Alizade chose that moment to step out into the garden and regarded the two boys with a stony glower. Without uttering a word, he expressed his discontent through the grimace of his mouth and the piercing gaze of his gray eyes—a family trait shared with Raffe. Salav and Renon offered a brief nod of respect before loosening their grip. At that moment, he became aware of the maids and guards who had been sneakily observing. Thar Mal of the Idana Clan, accompanied by his two daughters, was also making his way toward them, appearing even paler than usual.

"Soren!" Thar Mal took one look at his son and blanched again. He cupped his face, inspected the bloody nose, and winced.

Elefa, the elder faie daughter if High King Alizade's memories were correct, knelt in front of Soren and took his right hand smeared with blood. "What did you do this time, So-lin?" she asked him softly as if speaking to an injured animal.

"He punched me first!" Soren answered and pointed to Raffe, who at that moment, glared even harder at him.

High King Alizade stifled a resigned sigh once more. At sixteen winters old, Raffe stood as the elder figure, and whatever his rationale, it hardly justified his resorting to violence against a boy noticeably younger than himself. He possessed the tempestuous nature and unyielding spirit reminiscent of his valiant warrior mother. While Raffe might have inherited his father's physical traits, internally, he bore a striking resemblance to his mother—resilient, valiant, and headstrong. Yet, beneath this façade, he held traits of honesty, kindness, and a commitment to justice.