The capital of Solareth gleamed beneath the midday sun, its alabaster towers shimmering like spears of light piercing the heavens. From the highest balcony of the royal citadel, Serenya looked down upon the city, her fingers tightening around the silver rail. It was beautiful, yes. A jewel among kingdoms, a beacon of light in a continent often swallowed by shadows. But beauty, she thought, was a cruel mask. Behind the gleam lay unrest. Whispers of famine in the border villages. Rumors of strange beasts breaking through the Veil. And within these very halls, a court of lords circling her like vultures.
"Your Highness."
She turned. Her handmaiden, Lyra, bowed deeply, auburn hair spilling over her shoulders. "The council is waiting. They grow impatient."
Serenya forced a smile. "When do they not?"
Lyra hesitated. "Today is… different. The High Chancellor himself insists upon haste."
That was enough to make Serenya's stomach knot. The High Chancellor, Lord Malrik, was a man who smiled too easily and whose eyes never matched the warmth of his lips. He had been pressing her father for years to wed her into one of the noble houses—an alliance forged in politics, not love. And with the King's health failing, Malrik's influence had only grown.
Serenya squared her shoulders, letting her silken gown sweep across the marble as she moved. "Then let us not keep them waiting."
The council chamber was a cavern of polished stone, its vaulted ceiling etched with murals of Solareth's founding. Sunlight streamed through glass mosaics, painting the floor in shifting colors. At the head of the long table sat King Aldred, her father, his once-broad shoulders bowed beneath invisible weight. His skin was pale, his coughs frequent. Every lord in the room smelled weakness, and like wolves, they circled.
"Princess Serenya," Malrik greeted, his voice smooth as oil. His robes of black and gold shimmered, his rings glittering like small suns. "At last, we may begin."
She inclined her head but did not speak. She had learned that silence was a weapon sharper than most blades.
Malrik spread his hands dramatically. "The kingdom stands at a precipice. Our borders are harried, our soldiers weary. To secure Solareth's future, we must forge stronger bonds with our allies. There is but one path clear—" His eyes flicked to her. "A marriage alliance."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber. Some nodded eagerly, others looked away in discomfort.
Her father's fist struck the table, weak but firm. "She is not… a prize to be bartered."
"Majesty," Malrik said softly, "with respect, the people demand stability. The High Houses whisper. Already they question if the crown can endure."
And there it was. The unspoken truth—her father's illness was no longer a secret. Power was shifting, and Serenya was the fulcrum upon which it balanced.
"I have no intention of wedding anyone merely to quiet whispers," Serenya said, her voice clear, ringing through the chamber like struck crystal. "If Solareth is strong, it will stand by the loyalty of its people, not the chaining of its princess."
Malrik's smile did not falter, but the glint in his eyes hardened. "Idealism is admirable, Highness. But kingdoms are not held by ideals—they are held by bonds of power. I have already spoken with Lord Veyran of House Draemir. His son—"
"That is enough."
The words came not from Serenya, but from a deep, rough voice at the chamber doors.
Every head turned.
Kaelen.
He strode into the hall in his gleaming knight's armor, helm tucked beneath one arm, dark hair brushing against his brow. His gaze locked onto Serenya only for a heartbeat, but it was enough—her chest tightened, breath catching.
He shouldn't be here. This was the chamber of lords and kings, not knights. And yet, the way he walked, unbowed, unafraid, made him seem every bit as noble as the men who now gaped at him.
"Sir Kaelen," the King said hoarsely, coughing into a cloth. "Why do you intrude?"
Kaelen knelt swiftly. "Forgive me, Majesty. I would not intrude were it not urgent."
Malrik's eyes narrowed. "Urgent enough to defy protocol?"
Kaelen ignored him, rising to his feet. "Scouts have returned from the northern forests. The shadows stir again. Entire villages have gone silent."
A chill swept the chamber.
The Veil. Everyone knew the tales—how creatures from the shadow realm slipped through when the barrier weakened. But for villages to vanish without word… that was no mere raid.
Malrik recovered quickly. "Exaggerations. Superstitions told by frightened peasants."
"No," Kaelen said, voice hard. "I saw it with my own eyes. Blackened soil. Homes torn apart. No bodies, no blood. Only silence. As though life itself had been swallowed whole."
The chamber erupted into shouts, lords arguing, voices clashing. Some demanded armies be sent, others dismissed it as nonsense.
Through it all, Serenya's eyes never left Kaelen's.
There was something in his gaze—fury, yes, but also fear. Fear not for himself, but for those he had seen lost. And beneath it, a silent plea.
She clenched her fists at her sides. Politics. Marriage. Alliances. All while the world itself seemed to rot at the edges.
The King coughed violently, a crimson fleck staining his cloth. The chamber fell silent.
Serenya rushed to his side, kneeling. "Father—"
He waved her off weakly, eyes glazed. Malrik stepped forward like a vulture swooping toward carrion. "The King's strength wanes. The council must take swift action. Send word to House Draemir—"
"No," Serenya snapped, standing. Her voice rang with steel. "We will not waste time on marriage contracts while our people vanish into shadows. Sir Kaelen speaks truth. I will see to it myself."
The chamber gasped. A princess, declaring she would take part in matters of soldiers? Unthinkable.
Malrik's smile returned, thin and cold. "You would endanger yourself, Highness? Foolish. You are the kingdom's jewel. If anything were to happen—"
"Better a jewel that shines upon the battlefield than one locked in a cage," Serenya cut in.
For the first time, Malrik faltered. His lips tightened, but he said no more.
Serenya turned, her gown sweeping behind her like fire. Kaelen's gaze met hers once more. For the briefest of moments, the noise of the chamber vanished, the lords and walls fading away.
It was only the two of them. Knight and princess. Bound by something neither dared to name.
And then she was gone, striding from the chamber with Lyra scrambling to keep up.
Kaelen exhaled slowly, knuckles whitening around his helm. He knew what would come next.
He had seen it in Malrik's eyes.
This was not the end. It was only the beginning.