Character: Tristan’s first night in Raavia
Word Count: ~300 words
The humid, heavy heat of Raavia pressed against Tristan like a physical weight, so different from the cold, wind-swept peaks of Borviel. He stood on the marble balcony of the royal palace’s guest pavilion, the night air thick with the intoxicating, sweet aroma of sanna jajulu—the delicate jasmine flowers draped in garlands across the pillars.
Below him, the stone courtyard was adorned with intricate, hand-drawn muggulu patterns, their white chalk lines glowing softly under the moonlight. From the gardens, the distant, hypnotic pluck of a veena drifted on the warm mango breeze, its lyrical melody foreign to his northern ears.
Tristan let out a slow breath, his large hands gripping the carved stone railing. He felt massive, cold, and utterly out of place in this vibrant land of gold and warmth.
He had cast aside his customary heavy wools, leathers and heavy iron armor for a light, cream-colored uttareyam–the ceremonial silks worn by a bridegroom during their wedding in Raavia–that felt entirely too fragile against his scarred skin.
He was the “Butcher of Borviel,” a man forged in blood and blade.
Yet in a few hours, he was to wed Princess Mallika of Raavia.
He closed his eyes, remembering the soft, musical cadence of the palace guards’ Namaskaram when he had arrived. They had looked at his towering frame with wary respect, but it was the thought of the impending wedding that made him uneasy.
He had been sent here as a political pawn, a brute meant to secure an alliance. But standing in the quiet, starlit warmth of Raavia, his heart hammered with an unfamiliar, aching vulnerability.
He did not want to be the princess’s captor.
He wanted to be her shield.
Tristan looked toward the main palace, its gilded domes shimmering under the southern stars, wondering if his future bride was also staring at the same moon, fearing the warlord who had come to claim her hand.
He vowed to do everything in his power to make sure she never had to fear him.
He came to Raavia expecting a political marriage.
He didn’t expect to fall for the princess he was supposed to marry.
Discover what happens when the feared Butcher of Borviel meets the woman who refuses to become anyone’s pawn in Wedded to the Warlord.
