Arabella was about to meet her betrothed, the second prince of the Solem Empire.
The same man who would have become King of Gardenia… if not for her untimely death.
Ethannael Rubert di Solem.
Second prince of Solem, and heir just for show. He was to be sent to Gardenia to fulfill a peace treaty. The deal was simple: Solem's military protection in exchange for Gardenia's fertile lands. After Arabella's coronation, the Emperor would name his eldest son as heir, while the Empress's faction had plans to put the third prince on the throne.
Unlike Gardênia, in Solem it was normal for men to have multiple wives and children, as long as they had the means to provide. The title of heir wasn't decided by birthright, but by imperial favor.
"I never thought I'd set foot in these lands…" Arabella murmured, gazing out of the small carriage window.
She was alone for the first time in years. No ladies-in-waiting, only low-ranking guards assigned to escort , not protect her.
Apparently, the Emperor believed Helena would return willingly.
No restraints. No chains.
Which meant... he didn't expect resistance.
But why?
Looking closer, Arabella saw that her studies were right. The land was dead.
Dry, gray, lifeless. The air was heavy, hard to breathe. The sky covered in dark clouds, and what fell from it wasn't rain.
No one knew what the gray flakes were. Some called it ash, others dust. But many believed it was a curse from the Goddess of Destruction, the same one Helena was said to have invoked during the war, ending everything in a single act of grief.
Arriving at the Imperial Palace, there was no ceremony. No guards. No welcome.
Only a maid waiting to silently escort her to the prince's quarters.
Insulting.
But not surprising.
Perhaps they looked down on Helena's humble origins. Still, it was absurd. In Gardenia, no priestess was ever less than royalty. A blessing from the Goddess of Light should have been reason enough for the entire court to bow in reverence.
But this was Solem.
Barbaric. Unrefined.
Ungrateful for miracles they couldn't understand.
"This way, Lady Helena," the maid said coldly.
Arabella didn't reply. She simply followed.
As she pushed the door open, a strange weight fell over her body.
Her vision dimmed.
Her blood burned.
Her knees weakened.
A trap.
She barely held herself upright, gripping the wall. She was about to lose consciousness when a voice pulled her back.
"Who are you?"
A young man stood before her . Composed, curious.
She gasped, then bowed lightly.
"High Priestess Helena Fay, sent by the Emperor to heal the second prince, your highness."
"Oh, I know who Helena is," he said, amused. "That's not what I asked."
He stepped closer, sharp eyes glinting.
"I asked who you are, little butterfly."
Arabella froze.
He knows.
The blood magic at the door hadn't been accidental.
A test.
If she were the true Helena, no spell would have touched her.
"You see Helena, don't you?" she snapped. "Then let's agree your eyes aren't broken and move on."
He raised a brow, smiling faintly.
"Even if I told you the truth," she added, crossing her arms, "you wouldn't believe me."
"Try me."
He wasn't asking.
She sighed.
"Arabella."
His smile faded.
"Alighieri Amery di Garthen. Princess of Gardenia... or I was. Until I was murdered."
Silence.
The prince's face darkened. Unreadable. Arabella waited, tense.
Then… he smiled again.
"You flew very far from home, little butterfly."