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The Crownless throne

Esther_ADEBESHIN
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Synopsis
Born of fire. Bound by fate. Crowned by no one. Fifteen years ago, Queen Abittah of Valla was burned alive as a witch. Her daughter, Alissa, was spared—but the price was silence. Raised in a kingdom that fears magic, Alissa dreams not of crowns or marriage but of becoming the first female maester at the legendary Citadel. But fate has other plans. A forbidden power stirs within her. Whispers of prophecy rise in the shadows. And far to the north, the tyrant king who condemned her mother now demands her hand in marriage. As kingdoms scheme and war looms, Prince Hosea of Aethelgar—haunted by his own secrets—searches for a lost sister and a buried truth. Beside him stands a witch sentenced to die, a knight who dares love his prince, and a king who swore never to sacrifice family again. But in a world where magic is treason and prophecy is heresy… The crownless may yet rule.
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Chapter 1 - chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Queen burned beneath a sky heavy with storm.

Rain had not yet fallen, but the scent of it clung to the wind—wet earth, ash, and sorrow. Flames crackled at the base of the pyre, devouring the bound woman as the crowd stood silent, too afraid to blink.

Only one figure moved.

A five-year-old boy, dressed in royal green, stepped forward.

"Mother?"

His voice was soft. Barely a whisper.

Prince Alistair's curls clung to his wet cheeks, his green eyes wide and searching. He reached for the flames, as if the fire could give her back.

King Mathias knelt and drew his son close.

"She is gone, my son."

And so, Queen Abittah of Valla died not in peace, but in fire—condemned as a witch.

The girl she bore lived.

But no one cheered her birth.

Fifteen Years Later

"Catch me if you can!"

Princess Alissa's laughter echoed through Valla's palace halls. Her dark hair streamed behind her as she darted past startled servants, silk skirts hiked high above her ankles.

Behind her, guards gave half-hearted chase. "Your Highness—please!"

She didn't care.

For one fleeting moment, she wasn't a princess. She was wind and joy and sunlight.

Then she saw him.

Prince Alistair stood by the palace gates, dismounting his horse.

She forgot decorum. Forgot her lessons. She ran.

"Brother!"

Alistair turned just in time to catch her as she leapt into his arms. He laughed, spinning her around before setting her down gently.

"I missed you," she beamed.

"And I you, ñuha prūmia," he said in the old tongue, brushing her hair back.

"Have you forgotten your old father?" a deeper voice teased.

Alissa whirled. "Father!"

King Mathias embraced her, his eyes warmer than the last winter's sun. For a heartbeat, all was well.

But peace never lingers long in Valla.

A raven cawed overhead, circling once before dropping a letter into General Grendy's hand. The grizzled commander read it—and his face darkened.

"The witch is to burn at dawn," he said quietly. "King Tommen demands your presence, sire. As witness. And judge."

Mathias's eyes hardened.

"So be it," he said. "But I will not let my daughter be chained as her mother was."

Alissa frowned. "What witch?"

No one answered.

Only the storm did.

And it was coming for them all.