Volume 1 — Chapter 1: The Moonlit Oath
Princess Lyriana sat alone in the Hall of Mirrors, surrounded by a thousand reflections of a girl she no longer recognized. The moonlight spilled through the crystalline windows, bathing everything in a pale glow. Tonight was the Ceremony of the Moonlit Oath—an ancient tradition that bound every royal heir to duty, purity, and the throne.
Her mother, Queen Seraphielle, stood before her, tall and graceful. "Lyriana," she said softly, "after tonight, your heart belongs to Arvandor alone. You understand this."
"I understand," Lyriana replied, though her chest tightened with every word. An oath that forbade love. A life dictated by politics and ancient laws. A throne built on sacrifices she never chose.
Trumpets echoed as the High Council entered, draped in shimmering silver robes. Their leader, Grand Advisor Marovain, unrolled a scroll etched with moonstones.
"Princess Lyriana of the Lunar Bloodline," he declared, "step forward and seal your devotion to the empire."
Lyriana moved, each step heavy. She placed her hand over the Lunar Crest—an emblem that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.
But as Marovain began the incantation, a distant rumble shook the hall.
The doors burst open.
Two palace guards dragged in a wounded figure. His dark cloak was torn, his arm bleeding. His face, though shadowed, stole Lyriana's breath.
A boy—no older than her—yet carrying an aura wild as a storm.
"Your Majesty," a guard said, "we found this intruder near the Moonspire Aqueduct. He bears the mark of the Shadowlands."
A whisper of fear swept through the hall.
The boy lifted his head, locking eyes with Lyriana. His gaze was fierce… but not hostile. In those dark irises, she saw something impossible—pain, courage, and a plea for mercy.
Queen Seraphielle's voice hardened. "A Shadowlander trespassing inside the palace is punishable by death."
Lyriana's heart pounded. The ceremony, the oath, the laws—suddenly they felt fragile, like glass ready to shatter.
Before she could think, she stepped forward.
"Wait!" she cried.
Gasps filled the chamber.
And the moon, high above the palace, glowed brighter—as if destiny itself leaned in to listen.