Nalin's POV
The champagne glass shattered against the marble floor three inches from my feet.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Princess Nalin!" Lady Victoria gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. But her eyes weren't sorry. They were laughing. "I didn't see you there. You're just so... quiet. Like a ghost."
The ballroom went silent. Two hundred nobles stopped dancing, stopped talking, stopped breathing. They all turned to watch what the Hollow Princess would do.
I should feel embarrassed. Or angry. That's what normal people felt when someone threw a drink at them on purpose.
I felt nothing.
"It's fine," I said. My voice came out flat, like I was reading words off a page.
Lady Victoria's smile got bigger. She'd won again. Another noble who got to humiliate the emotionless freak and walk away laughing.
"The Hollow Princess strikes again," someone whispered.
"Twenty-three years old and still no magic. It's pathetic."
"I heard even her own mother can't stand to look at her."
I heard every word. I always did. But they rolled off me like water off stone because I couldn't feel the hurt they wanted me to feel.
The crowd turned away, already bored. The music started again. Golden light exploded from the center of the ballroom as my sister Elara laughed—really laughed—and her joy-magic lit up the whole room like a second sun. Everyone gasped and applauded. She was so beautiful, so powerful, so everything I wasn't.
My brother Aldric healed a servant's cut hand with his gentle compassion-magic, and people cooed about how kind the prince was.
Even my baby sister Mira, only twelve years old, made shadow-puppets dance across the ceiling with her fear-magic, and children squealed with delight.
The Valtheric family. The most powerful magical bloodline in the empire.
And then there was me.
I moved toward the edge of the ballroom, trying to disappear. That's what I was good at—being invisible. But as I passed a group of young nobles, one of them stuck out his foot.
I saw it. I always saw these things coming. But I let myself trip anyway because fighting back took too much energy.
I hit the ground hard. My palms scraped against broken glass from the champagne. Blood welled up, bright red against my pale skin.
"Oops," the noble said. "Didn't see you there, Your Highness."
Liar. But I didn't say it out loud.
I stood up slowly, watching blood drip from my hands. I should feel pain. But I didn't. I never felt anything.
"Nalin." A warm hand touched my shoulder.
I turned and saw Prince Davren, my fiancé, looking at me with concern in his dark eyes. He pulled out a silk handkerchief and wrapped it around my bleeding palm.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly.
Something in my chest tried to stir. Hope, maybe. Davren was the only person in this whole palace who was kind to me. Who treated me like I was human instead of a broken doll.
"I'm fine," I said.
"You're always fine," he said, but he smiled. Not a mocking smile. A real one. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."
He led me through the crowd, his hand on my back. People stared. They always stared at us—the beautiful shadow-prince engaged to the emotionless princess. Everyone knew it was a political marriage, arranged by our fathers to unite two kingdoms.
But Davren had been my friend since we were children. When everyone else avoided me, he sat with me. When others whispered about how broken I was, he told me I was just different.
We stepped out onto the balcony. The night air was cold, but I couldn't feel that either.
"One more week," Davren said, leaning against the railing. "Then we'll be married, and you'll be a princess of Shadowmere. Away from all of this."
"Will it be better there?" I asked.
He hesitated. Just for a second. But I noticed. I always noticed everything.
"Of course," he said. But his voice sounded wrong.
Below us, the palace gardens stretched out in the moonlight. Beautiful hedges, white stone paths, fountains that glowed with magic.
"I should check on the wedding preparations," Davren said suddenly. "Will you be alright getting back to your rooms?"
"I'm always alright," I said, echoing his words.
He kissed my forehead—quick and cold—and left.
I stood alone on the balcony, listening to the party continue without me. My hands had stopped bleeding. I unwrapped the handkerchief and saw the cuts were already closing. My body healed fast, even if I couldn't feel the pain.
I should go back inside. Or go to my room. But something made me look down at the gardens again.
Two figures walked along the paths below, half-hidden by shadows. They moved close together, the way lovers did.
I watched them disappear behind the hedge maze.
Then, for no reason I could explain, I followed.
I took the servant's stairs down, moving quietly through the palace. No one ever noticed me, so it was easy to slip outside. The garden paths were empty this late at night. Everyone was at the party.
I walked toward the hedge maze, toward the voices I could now hear.
Laughing. Whispering.
I knew I should turn back. Whatever I was about to see, some deep instinct told me I didn't want to know.
But I kept walking.
I turned the corner around the hedge—
And saw my sister Elara kissing Prince Davren like her life depended on it.
His hands tangled in her golden hair. Her joy-magic sparkled around them like starlight. They looked beautiful together. Perfect.
They pulled apart, breathing hard.
"After the sacrifice," Elara whispered, "we'll finally be free."
Davren nodded. "Your father agreed?"
"He's thrilled," my sister said. "Nalin's death will strengthen the empire's magic barrier, and it gets rid of his embarrassment. Two problems solved with one sacrifice."
My heart should have been racing. My hands should have been shaking. I should have felt something—betrayal, anger, fear.
But I felt nothing.
Except...
Deep in my chest, where I'd always been empty, something stirred.
Something cold and angry and absolutely terrifying.
And for the first time in my entire life, I felt it start to crack.