“She agreed to fake her love for the court's most feared heir, but the palace frost doesn't burn half as fiercely as his gaze when they are alone.”
Forced to settle her family's ancient magical debt, Irene infiltrates the boreal court disguised as the betrothed of the ruthless Prince Fadrique. Surrounded by courtiers who weigh loyalty in poisoned wine and crystal daggers, she discovers the prince's icy cruelty is merely a shield hiding a silent ancestral curse. When their calculated farce sparks into a dangerous devotion, choosing to save her clan will mean handing him over to the imperial headsman.
“Nobody signs a marriage pact in the north expecting warmth; you sign so you won't freeze along the way.”
“Poison in a silver cup doesn't taste of death but of iron and haste, and whoever pours it always looks the other way.”
“Dancing with the enemy is easy, so long as neither remembers why the music began.”
“Irene understood that the lie didn't have to convince him; it was enough that it suited him better to keep quiet about it than to expose it.”
“But once it catches, no water on earth can put out the coals.”
“Kings draw borders with ink, and those who survive at the edge erase them with their boots.”
“Irene counted her own heartbeats so as not to hear anyone else's.”
“The worst part of faking that kiss wasn't deceiving the court. It was the moment her own body refused to pull away.”
“Freedom bought with betrayal smells like counterfeit coin at the bottom of a torn pocket.”
“When the palace glass was bursting into shards, no rank could save anyone who didn't know how to hold a blade.”
“Snow covers the fallen with the same haste the court forgets the defeated.”
Short Story·Romantasy
Yara Rajná
He entered the imperial chancery under a dead man's name to purge his family's debts; the chancellor's daughter was the only one who recognized his hand.
Short Story·Romantasy
Irene Sabater
In an academy above the clouds, magic is paid for with what you loved most.
Novella·Romantasy
Yara Rajná
She weaves light, he weaves shadow, and their houses hate each other. Now a blood pact won't let them stray more than a hundred paces apart.
An Inkora Stories original, written with AI assistance under human editorial direction and review. Yara Rajná is an editorial pen name. Learn more