Celeste's POV
My hands won't stop shaking.
I press them against the smooth marble railing of the Grand Hall balcony, trying to look calm. Below me, hundreds of nobles laugh and dance. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbow light across their jeweled gowns and golden suits. Orchestra music fills the air. Everyone is celebrating.
Everyone thinks tonight is perfect.
They don't know what I found three days ago. They don't know about the papers hidden under my mattress. Papers written in old blood that tell the truth about our kingdom—about murder and lies that happened a thousand years ago.
Papers that prove everything we believe is wrong.
"Celeste!" My younger sister Maris grabs my arm, her face glowing with excitement. "You look like you're going to be sick. This is supposed to be the best night of your life!"
I force a smile. "I'm just nervous."
"About what? You're marrying Prince Aldric! You're going to be the future queen!" Maris squeezes my hand. "I'm so proud of you, sister."
Guilt twists in my stomach. Maris doesn't know that after tonight, everything will change. After I tell Aldric what I discovered, he'll help me expose the truth. We'll fix this kingdom together. We'll make things right.
At least, that's what I'm hoping.
"Lady Celeste Thorne!"
The royal announcer's voice booms across the hall. Everyone stops talking. Hundreds of faces turn to look at me.
My heart pounds as I walk down the grand staircase. My blue dress feels too tight. The storm magic inside me—the weather power I was born with—crackles under my skin, responding to my fear. Tiny sparks dance at my fingertips.
Control it, I tell myself. Stay calm.
At the bottom of the stairs, Prince Aldric waits for me. He's handsome in his white and gold uniform, his blonde hair perfectly styled. When he smiles, the whole room seems to brighten. Sun magic radiates from him like warmth.
"You look beautiful," he says, taking my hand.
"Thank you." I search his face, trying to see the man I thought I knew. The man I've been engaged to for two years. Will he believe me when I tell him the truth? Will he help me?
He has to. Aldric is good. Everyone says so.
The music starts again. Aldric leads me to the center of the floor, and we dance. Around us, nobles whisper and smile. They're already planning our wedding, already imagining the powerful children we'll have. Storm magic and sun magic combined.
"You seem distracted," Aldric murmurs in my ear. "Is something wrong?"
This is it. I could tell him now. But there are too many people watching, too many ears listening. The papers I found—they name names. They tell exactly how the Radiant Court rose to power by killing an entire race of people called the Lightning-Blessed. They tell how our kingdom stole magic that never belonged to us.
If I speak now, before I have proof in hand, they'll call me crazy. Or worse—a traitor.
"I need to talk to you," I whisper back. "After the ceremony. Privately. It's important."
Something flickers in his eyes. Too fast for me to read. "Of course. Anything for you."
The dance ends. King Aldric—the prince's father—stands from his throne. The old king raises his golden staff, and silence falls.
"Tonight," the king announces, "my son becomes the official heir to the Radiant Throne. Tonight, he ascends!"
The crowd cheers. Aldric walks forward to kneel before his father. This is the moment everyone has been waiting for—when the prince receives the crown that marks him as the next king.
But then something strange happens.
The music stops.
Prince Aldric stands up slowly. He doesn't kneel. He doesn't take the crown.
Instead, he turns to face the crowd. His expression has changed. The warmth is gone. His eyes are cold, calculating. Like a stranger wearing Aldric's face.
My stomach drops.
"Before I accept this honor," Aldric's voice rings out, "I must reveal a terrible truth." He pauses, letting the tension build. "There is a traitor among us."
Gasps echo through the hall. Nobles clutch their chests, looking around frantically. Who could be a traitor? Everyone here is loyal to the crown.
Aldric's eyes lock onto mine.
No. No, no, no.
"My own bride-to-be," he says slowly, "Celeste Thorne, has been plotting against the crown."
The world stops spinning. I can't breathe. I can't think.
This isn't happening.
"She discovered certain... documents," Aldric continues, his voice dripping with false sorrow. "Documents she planned to use to destroy our kingdom. She wants to kill my father and seize the throne for herself."
"That's not true!" I scream, but my voice is lost in the explosion of shocked gasps and angry shouts.
Guards appear from everywhere, surrounding me. I look desperately at the crowd, searching for someone—anyone—who will defend me.
My parents stand frozen, their faces pale with horror.
My friends turn away.
And then I see Maris. My baby sister. The only person I thought would always believe in me.
She steps forward, tears streaming down her face.
"It's true," Maris sobs. "Celeste told me everything. She's planning to kill the king. She... she threatened to kill me too if I told anyone."
The betrayal hits me like a physical blow. My own sister. My own blood.
Maris is lying.
But why?
Rough hands grab my arms. Cold metal chains wrap around my wrists. The crowd screams for my punishment. Someone throws a glass that shatters at my feet.
I look at Aldric, silently begging him to stop this nightmare.
He smiles.
It's a smile I've never seen before. Cruel. Victorious. Like he's been waiting for this moment.
"Strip her magic," the king commands.
High Priestess Serath steps forward, her ancient face twisted with dark pleasure. Twelve other priestesses follow, all carrying glowing knives.
My storm magic screams inside me, sensing danger.
The priestesses begin to chant.
And I realize with complete, soul-crushing horror—this isn't a mistake.
This is a trap.
And I walked right into it.