Perfect, Kalani 🌹— here's your Chapter 3: The Morning of Thorns — around 1200 words, balanced with emotion, movement, and vivid detail.
Everything flows naturally from the last chapter, with both Elara's and Lucien's inner perspectives.
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Chapter 3: The Morning of Thorns
Dawn crept softly across the palace of Noctara, brushing gold over marble floors and silver-tipped spires. The morning air was cool, carrying the faint scent of mist and jasmine from the royal gardens. Servants hurried through corridors, whispering and bowing as the great kingdom awakened from its quiet slumber.
Elara stirred where she slept on the straw-lined cot in the servants' quarters. For a moment, she didn't remember where she was. The ceiling above her was high, carved with faded sigils from a time when angels still blessed the palace. She turned her head and met Selene's gentle gaze.
"You should wake before the head maid finds you still dreaming," Selene whispered, smiling sleepily as she laced her boots.
Elara nodded slowly, sitting up. Her body ached from yesterday's work, but her mind was heavy for another reason — the memory of the King's eyes on her. Those golden eyes, glowing faintly even in shadow, had followed her into her dreams.
He looked at me as if I were someone he knew… someone he lost.
She shook off the thought, tying her apron over her plain dress and following Selene out into the corridors.
The palace in morning light was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers caught the sun and scattered it across the floors like shards of color. But beauty here was edged with danger — the nobles' laughter echoed from distant halls, sharp as glass. Servants bowed and kept their eyes low.
It wasn't long before she felt it — the stares.
"They say His Majesty kept her as a personal servant already," one maid whispered. "She has the late Queen's face," another hissed. "Maybe she's his curse returned."
Elara lowered her head and kept walking. She had learned early that silence was safer than defending herself.
Selene frowned beside her. "Ignore them. They've been like that since dawn."
"I'm used to it," Elara murmured. "People have always been afraid of what they don't understand."
But even as she said it, her heart trembled.
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By midmorning, she was summoned to the great hall, where Princess Liora Vaelthorn awaited. The chamber glowed with red glass windows that painted the floor like blood. Liora sat on the dais beside the throne — the throne where her brother often sat in silence, eyes distant, mind elsewhere.
Liora was beautiful — fury incarnate in a woman's form. Her hair burned a deep, vivid red that cascaded like flame, and her emerald gown shimmered with every move. But her eyes, sharp and calculating, found Elara with immediate disdain.
"So…" Liora's voice cut through the hall like a blade. "You are the girl the King has chosen to serve him personally."
Elara dropped into a low curtsey. "Y-yes, Your Highness."
Liora stood, circling her slowly. "You have the face of a ghost. Tell me, girl, did someone tell you to come here wearing her face?"
"No, Your Highness," Elara said quietly. "I was born this way."
A cruel smile tugged at Liora's lips. "Born this way. How convenient." She stopped before her, eyes flashing. "My brother may be blind with nostalgia, but I am not. If I find that you've bewitched him in any way, you'll wish you had never been sold into this palace."
The maids in the hall smirked, enjoying the spectacle. Elara lowered her gaze, holding her breath. Her hands trembled slightly, but she didn't speak.
I didn't choose this face. I didn't ask for it…
Then the sound of boots echoed through the hall.
All heads turned as King Lucien entered.
He was dressed in dark crimson and black, his gloves immaculate, his expression unreadable. His gaze swept over the room — and stopped on Elara. A flicker of something — anger? pain? — crossed his face for just a moment.
"Liora," he said quietly, voice deep and steady, "is there a reason my servant is being interrogated instead of working?"
Liora stiffened but bowed slightly. "Brother, I was only ensuring that no one unworthy stands near you."
"I am capable of choosing who stands near me." His golden eyes glowed faintly. "You forget yourself."
The tension in the room snapped like a taut string. Liora's jaw clenched, but she said nothing more.
Lucien's gaze lingered on Elara. "You may return to your duties."
"Yes, Your Majesty." She curtsied quickly and fled, her heart pounding.
Immediately Elara left sight , Liora turned to her brother face annoyed "Brother..... Don't fall for that face , there's no way she can look like the late Queen and you know it " Lucienne face didn't show anything he was thinking "I know ...but let her be ....she's just human "
"What if she was sent to seduce and kill you ? Father can do anything "
"He won't ...remember I sealed him "
Liora still didn't want to believe it's just a coincidence "don't say I didn't earn you brother , and I'd make sure she wasn't sent "
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Later that afternoon, she found herself in the garden, helping Selene prune the white lilies. The sun was warm, the air soft with birdsong, but her thoughts were anything but peaceful.
Selene broke the silence. "You should stay cautious, Elara. The Princess is… protective of her brother. Obsessively so."
"I don't mean to anger her," Elara murmured, snipping a wilted leaf. "I only wish to survive here."
Selene smiled sadly. "Then stay unseen as much as you can. But I doubt that's possible anymore."
Elara looked up at the tall palace towers. Somewhere in there, she could almost feel the King's presence — a strange pull in her chest, like invisible threads binding them together. It frightened her.
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That night, in his private chamber, Lucien stood by the window, the moon casting pale light over his crimson-black hair.
She looks exactly like her… he thought, clenching his gloved hand. But her eyes… they're different. There's no memory, no recognition. Just innocence.
He hated how she made him remember — the scent of lilies, the echo of a laugh that belonged to someone who was gone. He had buried that pain centuries ago, and yet it returned every time Elara's eyes met his.
When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear his sister's words:
"She'll destroy you, brother. You're repeating the same curse."
He sighed. "Perhaps I already have."
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That night, in the servant quarters, Elara lay awake. The moonlight touched her emerald eyes as she whispered into the silence.
"Why does he look at me like that… as if I'm someone else?"
Selene, half-asleep beside her, murmured softly, "Because fate rarely forgets, Elara. Even when we do."
Elara turned to the window, the silver moon watching quietly from above. Somewhere beyond that light, darkness stirred — patient, waiting.