Chapter 2: Masks and Daggers
The grand ballroom of Evarra Palace shimmered with golden candlelight. Nobles from every corner of the continent stood cloaked in silks and whispers. Musicians played soft melodies, and laughter echoed like fragile glass. But beneath the splendor, the tension was thick—as if the palace itself held its breath.
Tonight was not just a celebration.
Tonight, Princess Elise Avantra would be officially bound to Prince Raynard of Merodia.
A political union.
A crown's command.
A betrayal of the heart.
Elise descended the marble staircase, every step measured, her smile carefully painted. Her gown, a cascade of white and gold, glittered like starlight, and her silver tiara caught the gaze of every lord and lady.
But her eyes…
Her eyes searched the crowd for a ghost.
Wiliam.
She knew he couldn't be here. He was imprisoned. Or worse.
Still, her heart refused to forget.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Prince Raynard stepped forward.
Tall, graceful, and far too charming, Raynard wore a diplomat's mask—every word measured, every smile rehearsed. His hair was the color of polished bronze, and his violet eyes shimmered with dangerous intelligence.
"Princess Elise," he said, bowing low. "May I say… you look breathtaking."
Elise curtsied with the elegance of royalty. "You may say what you wish, my prince."
He smirked, amused by her restraint. "I look forward to uniting our kingdoms."
And tearing apart my soul, she thought.
Meanwhile, Beneath the place
The dungeons trembled.
With a sharp twist of her blade, Rivenna severed the final lock on Wiliam's manacles. He collapsed forward, weak but alive.
"Can you walk?" she asked, eyes scanning the corridor.
"I can run," he replied hoarsely.
They moved quickly through the shadowy tunnels—old passages from the time of kings long dead. Forgotten halls, unguarded by men but protected by spells and riddles.
"I can't believe you knew about these tunnels," Wiliam whispered.
"I was a palace thief before I became a rebel," Rivenna replied. "And I never forget a way out."
But as they neared the final gate, a cold voice echoed through the stone:
"You shouldn't have come back, Rivenna."
A figure stepped from the shadows—tall, armored in black, and eyes like cold steel. Captain Drevan, the Queen's personal enforcer.
Wiliam froze. He had trained under Drevan. Fought beside him in wars.
"You're betraying your kingdom," Drevan said.
"No," Wiliam growled, stepping forward. "I'm betraying a throne that betrayed me first."
Drevan unsheathed his sword. "Then you die a traitor."
The clash was brutal. Sparks flew as steel met steel. Rivenna circled behind, daggers flashing. But Drevan was a beast—unrelenting, precise, and stronger than both of them.
Blood splattered the stone.
Wiliam staggered back, clutching his ribs. Rivenna was bleeding from her shoulder.
And just as Drevan raised his blade for the final blow— a wall of flame erupted between them.
A cloaked figure stepped through the fire, holding a crimson staff.
"Step aside, Drevan," the mage said coolly.
"Or burn."
Drevan hesitated. Just for a breath.
Long enough for the trio to vanish into the smoke.
Back in the Ballroom
Elise stood beside Raynard as the high priest began to speak. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
But then—
BOOM.
A sudden explosion rocked the palace. Screams rang out. Guards shouted orders.
Raynard turned sharply. "What was that?!"
Elise didn't wait. She dropped her bouquet, lifted her gown—and ran.
Through the corridors. Past the roses. Toward the old library.
Toward the place where Wiliam once left her a note hidden in a book.
And inside, among the forgotten scrolls and dust—
She found another.
Freshly written. Still warm with magic.
"Elise. The storm has begun. If you still believe in us… follow the fire."
Her hand trembled.
And for the first time in her life — Elise chose not to obey the crown.