This wasn't how I imagined my wedding day with darkness swirling around my long, flowing pink dress, shadowing me in the realms of the Underworld.

But I didn't live in a fairy tale. I resided in a reality underlined in duty and honor, where I accepted my fate for the greater good.

Mira, my lady's maid, pinned a final clip into my brown hair and stepped back. "You're beautiful, Olga."

I met her pale gaze in the mirror. "Thank you." My poor attempt at a responding smile didn't go unnoticed.

She laid a delicate hand on my exposed shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "It'll be okay. It's not like you don't know him." Mira tried to reassure me, but I couldn't discern whether knowing my soon-to-be husband's character in advance was a good thing or not.

Oh, I admired him, even respected him. But desired him, no. Yet, tonight I would give myself to him. Allow his hands to roam my body, to search and explore my skin in a manner no other ever had.

"She'll be fine," my mother, if I could even call her that interjected and stood. She motioned for me to follow suit, her expression and manner lacking any semblance of warmth.

It didn't shock me. I hardly knew the woman, as I hadn't seen her since my third birthday, the day she and my father had sent me to live in Winsorer with my betrothed's family.

A bride in exchange for peace.

One innocent life forfeited for the lives of thousands.

To save Morima, a kingdom I barely remembered yet cherished deep inside.

"Why you chose pink for a dress is beyond me," my mother said, her lips twisting into a grimace. "It's a ridiculous color for someone of our breeding. You should be in black. This'll bring bad luck. I'm sure of it."

"I think it's nice to have brightness now and then here," Mira countered, but my mother shut her down with a glare so powerful it could freeze over hell.

"It's okay. I like the color. It's very me," I murmured to the girl who wasn't only my lady's maid but also my best friend and the only person I trusted in all of the Underworld.

Her halfling status often gave others the false impression that she stood beneath them, which wasn't helped by her petite frame and dull brown hair. But I saw a different side of her. A stronger side. One I adored and respected. And I considered her more like family to me than anyone else in the world.

"You can tell them I'm ready," I said softly, giving her a smile to help increase both of our confidence levels. She knew as well as I did I was nowhere near ready, but I could certainly fake it.

"Of course," she replied, taking her leave with a polite bow.

After the door closed, I frowned at my mother.

"Black may be the color to wear in Morima, but the Winsorer Kingdom prefers color," I informed her. I bent down to take a last look in the mirror and picked up the tiara of the Royal Family of Winsorer to affix to my head. I rose taller than my mother, for in a few hours, I'd be queen of this place and her equal. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get married."

"Wait." She grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to her. "I need to know that you understand the gravity of today."

I nearly laughed. "All I've ever known is my purpose for today." To marry Necros, King of the Dead. There was no other recourse. I would become his indefinitely, do whatever he requested, and live and die by his rule.

She made an unpleasant noise in the back of her throat. "Olga, we're relying on you to keep our kingdom safe."

"Your kingdom," I replied flatly. "Yes, I know. But you're not the one paying the price, are you?" Most wouldn't dare speak to a queen in this manner, but I had twenty-one years of pent up emotion over the decision my parents made on my behalf. My mother could

afford to take a little of the emotional burden I wore for just a few seconds.

"We're counting on you to make him happy," she gritted out through clenched teeth. "If you fail, he'll come for us."

"And wouldn't that be a shame?" I meant it to sound tongue in cheek, but deep down, I shuddered at the thought. Necros adored throwing his weight around in the Underworld and destroying other kingdoms. It would not take much for him to take down Morima, the only realm left that valued the balance of right and wrong. A land of justice adorned in shades of black, hence my mother's distaste for my dress.

"Olga," she snapped, her queenly tone coming out to play. "You owe your loyalty to your people."

"Do I?" I asked, blinking my eyes innocently. I refused to let her see my weaknesses, to witness how much I truly cared deep inside. Morima would not ever fall on my account. Of that I was certain.

"This is not..."

"You realize I've spent my entire life living here, trying to save a country I don't even know, yes?" I interjected, done with her poor attempt to command my will. "All to marry a man I don't desire," I added, leaning down to hold her icy gaze—the same startling azure color as my own. "I suggest you not talk to me about loyalties, Mother. Not unless you want to acknowledge your lack of loyalty to me, your only daughter. The sole heiress to the Morima throne."

Not that I would be accepting my position.

My parents, the Queen and King of Morima, had made sure of that when they promised my hand to the King of Winsorer. I often wondered if they would create a new heir in my place, but it seemed destiny had other plans for their kingdom of justice.

Her nails dug into my arm as I tried to leave. "You don't understand. There's so much you don't know. Necros can harness..."

A sharp knock preceded the door opening. I spun, ready to reprimand whoever dared disturb my quarters without sufficient approval, and fell to my knee in a deep bow. "My Lord," I breathed, shocked by the appearance of one so revered.

My mother followed suit, her voice shaking as she said, "My Lord. To what do we owe the honor?"

The dark presence lingered, saying nothing and everything all at once. My mother's flinch said he spoke into her mind, and as she left without a word, I realized he'd dismissed her.

Oh… This couldn't be good. I expected his appearance, knew he would be officiating today's ceremony, but this felt unprecedented.

"Rise, my child," Lucifer murmured, his tone oddly gentle for one so notoriously cruel.

I swallowed, righting myself on my high-heeled shoes while keeping my gaze lowered. Except his finger beneath my chin forced my gaze to meet the inky depths of his eyes. Power swirled there. Dominance. Authority. Righteous pain. Stunningly beautiful.

I shivered beneath the intensity of all those traits, my knees longing to take me to the floor again.

This being was the most revered entity in the Underworld.

And he was touching my face.

He canted his head, his long black hair falling over his broad shoulders. "You have grown into a beautiful woman, Olga," he praised. "I'm proud. But a true queen bows for no one. Not even for me."

"I…" I didn't know what to say. Everyone bowed to Salter. He was the Supreme Being. The fallen angel who ruled us all.

His lips curled, the smile devastating. "You'll learn, my child. There's still so much that rests ahead of you. One day you'll understand my trials. One day soon." He released my face and offered me his arm. "May I escort you to the ceremony?"

As if I could tell the Devil no.

I slid my arm through his, surprised by the warmth he offered. "Thank you," I managed to say, my throat tight.