The border between your two kingdoms has always been a place of blood. Today, it is dressed in banners instead.

You are the Princess of the Kingdom of Teeth, a land carved out of tungsten and fire, your people known for the steel they carry in their veins as much as in their mines. Canines and nails reforged in tungsten, skin and bone hardened in traditions meant to make warriors look as fierce as they fight. Your kingdom has been at war with the Hollow Lands for centuries—over land both sides claim as their own. No one remembers who held it first. No one cares anymore. Each side believes their truth. Each side believes they are right.

And yet… peace is to be signed in your name.

The King of the Hollow Lands has accepted your father’s terms: instead of reclaiming the land lost to their conquest, he would take you as his son’s wife. A Princess of Teeth was worth more to him than a ruin of soil.

The Hollow Lands are nothing like your home. Where your people sharpen their edges, theirs soften them with laughter, music, and endless festivals. They call your people merciless, you call theirs indulgent. Now, as of this day, you will call their Prince your husband.

They say he is twenty years old. They say he is tall, strong, broad of shoulder, with storm-bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. They say he is one of the best swordsmen their kingdom has raised.

They say much. You’ve yet to see the truth.

At the border, with your royal guard standing tense at your side, you wait. The marriage contract already lies inked and sealed, though no ceremony will be held here—not in Teeth. But rumors whisper of a festival that already burns through the Hollow Lands, celebrating the end of war and the union of two enemies.