From the Lost Verses of the Moonlit Prophecy, *"The heart may be a fortress, but even the strongest walls crack. When love and loyalty collide, the soul trembles and trust may bleed."
With the first gray light spilling into her chamber, Serenya woke up before dawn. The events of the day before, including Eryndor's treachery, Lyrian's admission, and Kaelen's unwavering watchfulness, tore at her thoughts. More than ever, the Moonlit Dynasty seemed more diminutive and vulnerable. Her heartbeat echoed the prophecy that had plagued her since she was a young girl, and every breath she took seemed to be weighed with invisible consequences. Heavy with thought, if not metal, she put a hand to her chest and felt the crown she had not yet worn. The dynasty was always a delicate web of power, love, and loyalty rather than merely a throne or a kingdom. That weave was now coming undone.
When the chamber door creaked, Lyrian entered cautiously but resolutely. "I couldn't sleep either, Serenya," he said quietly. Can I take a seat? Unable to look him in the eye, she nodded silently. There was fear and warmth in his eyes, a devotion that was out of place in the darkness that now enveloped them. After a pause, he said, "I have wronged you." "With my heart, not with treachery. I have to say it even though I know you can't forgive me just yet. Silence is suffocating. Her chest hurt. Her cold heart wanted to be warmed by the fire between them, so she reached for him. But fear and doubt were like chains.
She said in a tight voice, "You...you must understand." "My heart isn't able to fully trust." Not yet. Not when invisible shadows are moving. Almost reaching her, Lyrian's fingers twitched in midair. "All I want is to be close to you, to keep you safe, to—" "Do not," she said sternly as she took a step back. "I cannot allow the dynasty to be guided by this passion." No, I couldn't. Especially since one of you has already plotted in the shadows. --- Drawn by the tension he sensed even through closed doors, Kaelen soon followed. He was like the edge of a blade—sharp, accurate, and unforgiving.
His eyes narrowed as they darted between her and Lyrian, asking, "What troubles you, my queen?" "He has betrayed me, Eryndor," she said quietly. Not with fire or a sword, but with deceit, deception, and manipulation. My heart falters, though I'm not sure how much yet. I don't trust you. Kaelen's mouth clenched. I had a suspicion. And yet. He stopped, his eyes unwavering. "You can't allow this to ruin you. The dynasty depends on your strength, not on your heart's wavering." She looked away. "And yet my heart…is my weakness." --- The weight of unsaid words hung heavy over the three of them as they remained in tense silence.
Lyrian took another step forward. Let me share your weakness with you, Serenya. Even if the shadows threaten to engulf us all, let me stand by your side. I promise not to falter out of duty or love. She gasped. She wanted to give herself over to him, to let the warmth of his love protect her from the harsh truth of betrayal. However, she was reminded by the whispers in the hallways, the shadowed smiles, and the recollection of Eryndor's note that the crown could not be controlled by desire.
Her voice trembled as she shook her head. "No. I can't. Not just yet. I—I love you, Lyrian. But I can't. A knife lurks in the shadows, and I can't let myself fall. Not when treachery lurks in the shadows. --- Lyrian's face dropped, his features flashing with pain. "And what about the prophecy?" he said in a low, nearly broken voice. Does it lead you despite the cries of your heart? Do you have more faith in shadows than in your loved ones? She didn't respond right away. Her gaze shifted to the window, where the chilly stones of the palace were illuminated by the pale dawn light that was starting to spill into the room.
At last, she said in a tight voice, "I believe the prophecy." "Because the prophecy has never been false." I've seen the first indications of betrayal, and it warned me of it. Even if it means losing what I value most, I cannot ignore what I have learned. Lyrian did not take a step back, but his shoulders drooped. He stayed close to her, silent and unflinching. Kaelen didn't say anything, but his face softened a little. Since he had also vowed to serve Heart second, he could relate to her struggle. --- Serenya and her three Guardians convened a secret council that evening. Unaware of her true motivations, Eryndor walked confidently and calmly up. "My Queen, you called me?"
"Yes," she said in a measured tone. "I have to be well-informed. Every deception, every act that has pushed the dynasty to the brink, every secret you have kept. Now, Eryndor, you will speak. No omissions or shadows. With a slightly amused expression, Eryndor cocked his head. "And do you believe that the truth won't destroy what you value most, my queen, if I do?" Her chest grew constricted. "I have to be aware. I have to. For the dynasty. For myself. You could feel the tension. Silent but begging, Lyrian's eyes never left her. Ever the sentinel, Kaelen stood watch at her side. And Eryndor—Eryndor moved in, cool and collected, but the weight of the words that were not spoken between them was nearly too much to bear.
Hours went by. Even as he spoke, Serenya sensed the twist of the knife of betrayal as Eryndor revealed carefully selected fragments. She became more unsure with every word, every pause, and every deliberate omission. The heart she had nearly given to Lyrian could not yet find peace, and she felt a twinge of realization that the shadow of betrayal was deeper than she had thought. --- At last, she stood up, her face etched with grief and exhaustion. "Enough," she said in a steady, low voice. "I'll figure out the rest on my own. You have disclosed enough to betray my confidence, but not enough to fully grasp the extent. And I refuse to let my emotions dictate the dynasty's destiny.
She retreated when Lyrian reached for her hand. Despite her voice cracking, she said firmly, "Do not." "I can't." He stayed, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Quiet. Awaiting. I'm hoping. In that quiet, she came to terms with the reality: she felt conflicted. She lost faith in him. Furthermore, the already precarious dynasty would soon encounter difficulties she was unable to foresee. --- Serenya stood by herself, gazing at the crown as the first rays of dawn slowly made their way into the room. She touched the cold metal with her fingers. Her heart shook. For now, she had made up her mind. She had leaned away from the blaze of desire and toward duty.
However, Eryndor's shadow persisted everywhere. His treachery had not yet been fully exposed or comprehended. And like a fire she could not yet touch, Lyrian—Lyrian's love, so fierce and unrelenting—waited patiently. She took a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes. The dynasty would not collapse, despite the division of the heart. Not just yet. The knife, however, waits. And it will hit.