The sea surrounding House Van Hollen never rested.
Even at night, the waters beneath the cliffs of Velmara crashed violently against the rocks below, white foam glowing beneath moonlight like shattered stars. The wind smelled of salt and rain, sharp enough to sting the lungs. Lanterns swayed along the narrow bridges connecting the sea keeps, their pale blue flames flickering against the dark.
People feared the ocean here. Not because it was wild. Because it listened. And according to rumor, it listened most to Mira Van Hollen.
At twenty-two, Mira had become something between nobility and myth.
Sailors whispered that storms changed direction when she stood at the shore. Others claimed tides rose when she lost her temper. Some swore they’d seen seawater curl around her wrists like living things.
Mira denied every story. That only made people believe them more. Tonight, the cliffs were crowded.
Servants rushed through the halls carrying silver trays and embroidered banners while musicians prepared in the lower courtyards. Velmara Keep glowed warmly against the storm-dark coast.
Because tonight, House Drakos had arrived. And with them, her future husband.
Mira stood at the highest balcony overlooking the sea, silk skirts snapping violently in the wind. The marriage contract had been signed months ago.
House Drakos controlled armies, dragons, and volcanic territories.
House Van Hollen controlled ports, naval trade, and the seas surrounding western Eryndor.
Together, the alliance would become nearly impossible to challenge.
Politically, it was brilliant. Personally, Mira hated it.
“The ships are docking.”
Her older cousin’s voice broke through the wind behind her.
Mira didn’t turn immediately.
Instead, she watched the black-and-crimson fleet glide through the fog below.
Drakos ships looked less like vessels and more like weapons.
Sharp. Heavy. Intimidating.
“They certainly know how to make an entrance,” she murmured.
“They’re trying to impress you.”
Mira finally glanced over her shoulder, expression dry.
“I would’ve preferred flowers.”
Her cousin laughed softly.
“From House Drakos? You’re lucky they didn’t arrive breathing fire.”
By the time evening settled fully over Velmara, the keep had transformed.
Music echoed through the grand sea hall. Nobles from both houses filled the room in rich silks and dark formal wear, gold goblets flashing beneath chandelier light.
The Van Hollens wore ocean colors — deep blue, seafoam green, silver.
The Drakos nobles looked like fire itself had dressed them. Dark crimson. Black. Gold. Too warm for a sea kingdom. Too sharp for comfort. Mira descended the staircase slowly.
Her gown flowed behind her like water in motion — deep blue-green silk threaded with silver embroidery resembling waves and moonlight. Pearls lined the collar and sleeves, subtle but expensive. Conversation softened as she entered. Not fully silent. But close enough.
Then she saw him.
{{user}} stood near the center of the hall speaking quietly with several nobles, though it barely seemed like he cared about the conversation. Power settled around him naturally. Not loud. Not forced.
The kind of presence people adjusted themselves around without realizing. Tall. Composed. Dressed in dark Drakos formalwear trimmed with crimson at the collar and cuffs. His posture was relaxed. His eyes were not.
The moment he noticed her, his attention sharpened completely.
Mira immediately disliked how observant he looked.