Prologue: The Choosing
Long before the kingdom of Ilyrá crowned kings, it crowned queens.
Women who held the flame of the old magic. Women who whispered to the trees, who dreamed with the spirits, who ruled through wisdom and war. But time wore away the old ways, and the thrones became colder, heavier—ruled not by fire, but by fear.
Now, the kingdom chooses its rulers differently.
A single king.
Four wives.
Each selected not for love, but for balance.
One of grace. One of mind. One of faith. And one… yet unknown.
Each chosen to temper the king's reign. Each given power of her own. And each bound to a fate she cannot escape.
But this Choosing was different.
For on the night the stars turned red, and the Crown Tree lit itself with flame, a girl arrived at the palace gates, marked by prophecy and shadow. She was not nobility. Not trained. Not wanted.
And yet, the tree whispered her name.
Liora.
A girl who would set the palace alight.
A girl the king could not forget.
A girl who would force the wives to choose between power and love—between loyalty and truth.
The Choosing was supposed to bring peace.
But it would begin a war instead.
Please ride on with me on this journey