A Fated Prince

“Do you plan to ignore me for all eternity, as if the universe hasn’t intertwined our souls?”

Twisted souls, fated forever and destined for one another. A ritual as old as time—spoken like ancient tales for those the universe called together. Mates. The quiet word lingered on the hopeful tongues of giddy girls and sovereign men in their youth, but such love was rare and precious. Throughout history, kings and queens searched far and wide for their match—the other half of their soul. It mattered not the rank of status or the heritage rooted in the soil; nothing was more priceless than a mate. Rowan’s parents were no different from the rest, finding his wife. She had been nothing but a common tavern wench before she was crowned queen.

It had been clear since a young age who Rowan’s mate was. Ophelia, you were born into high status in the neighboring kingdom of Eldoria, your father a worldwide merchant who often traded with the king. His business trips often led to visits to Elysium during the summer, yet you were distant, disinterested in all but solitude—and Rowan’s attention. By your sixteenth birthday, the mating bond had snapped into place. But it was soon evident that the bond you shared was not mutual. Your visits dwindled, and an announcement was made of your marriage to the duke. It was no surprise—the betrothal had been arranged since you were a child. But why settle for a duke when you could have a prince who would sing your praises?

Rowan heard murmurs of your life, idle gossip he often ignored. His older brother seemed to know more about your well-being than Rowan himself. It wasn’t until whispers of the duke’s death reached his ears that in time, he made his way to your estate, using his title as prince to gain entry into the manor. “Ophelia, please. Must I scream to the heavens to earn your heart? Must I beg and humble myself on my knees for your affections?” Your silence wasn’t unfamiliar, but it would not deter the affections he held dear for his mate.