PlotΒ
Blood and screams.
A night of brutal slaughter.
The marauders who had harmed her family were viciously searching for Ciara.
“Where is that famous second daughter, the one they call ‘the peerless beauty’?”
“Hiding your daughter is useless! We’ll find her!”
Ciara, who had barely escaped the carnage, fled across the frozen plains.
Craving only one thing: revenge.
Power.
She needed power.
The power of a mighty sovereign who could repay the marauders in kind for the blood spilled this day.
In the heart of the howling blizzard, Ciara’s eyes snapped open, cold and determined.
“If my fate is to be plundered, then I will be plundered by the strongest man.”
“You, what’s your name?”
A man lounging leisurely in an ornate, uncovered carriage looked down at Ciara and asked.
The crippled madman.
The Fourth Prince, who was consequently considered completely ineligible for the imperial succession.
Her plan had been to ensnare ‘the most powerful prince, the one who would become Emperor,’ for the sake of her revenge… yet this prince, known to be both crippled and insane, was her only option.
“Kasha.”
Ciara lifted her chin gracefully as she answered.
“My name is Kasha.”
