ELARA
The Summit Hall doors slam behind me, and I don't look back.
My footsteps echo through the marble corridor—loud, angry, final. Behind those doors, seven kings are probably already deciding my fate. Planning how to deal with the "dangerous" Eternal Queen.
Let them plan. Let them scheme. I don't care anymore.
That's a lie. I do care. After three thousand years, I still stupidly care what people think of me.
A servant rounds the corner, sees me, and immediately turns around and walks the other way. She didn't even try to hide her fear.
Word travels fast in palaces. They already know. The Eternal Queen uses dark magic. The Eternal Queen wants to die. The Eternal Queen is dangerous.
All true.
I keep walking, heading toward the palace exit where my carriage waits. My hands shake—from anger or hurt, I'm not sure which. Maybe both.
Matthias betrayed me. Matthias, who I saved from execution forty years ago. Matthias, who I trusted with my secrets. Matthias, who I thought was my friend.
How could I be so stupid? After three thousand years, you'd think I'd learn not to trust anyone.
But that's the problem with immortality—you keep hoping things will be different. That maybe this time, this person, this friendship will last.
It never does.
"Your Majesty, wait!"
I freeze. That voice. King Petros, the youngest of the seven kings. Only thirty years old, which means he's practically a baby to me.
I turn. He's running down the corridor, his crown slightly crooked on his head.
"What do you want?" My voice comes out colder than I intended.
He stops a few feet away, breathing hard. "I wanted to say... I don't believe Lord Matthias. Not entirely. You've always been fair to my kingdom. You helped us during the famine ten years ago when no one else would."
Something tight loosens in my chest. One person. Just one person who doesn't think I'm a monster.
"Thank you," I say quietly. "But Matthias wasn't lying. I have been searching for death magic. I am trying to die."
Petros flinches but doesn't run. "Why?"
"Because I'm tired." The words spill out before I can stop them. "I've lived for three thousand years, Petros. I've watched kingdoms rise and fall. I've loved people and watched them grow old and die while I stay exactly the same. I'm so tired of living."
His eyes fill with something that looks like pity. I hate pity.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I can't imagine what that's like."
"No one can." I turn away. "Go back to the Summit. They're probably voting on whether to send armies after me."
"I'll vote no," Petros says. "For what it's worth."
"It's worth more than you know." I start walking again. "Goodbye, King Petros. Rule well. Rule wisely. And die peacefully when your time comes."
I leave before he can respond.
The carriage ride home takes three hours. Three hours of staring out the window at a world that keeps changing while I stay frozen.
The driver doesn't speak. Doesn't ask if I'm okay. He knows better.
When the Obsidian Palace finally appears on the horizon, I feel nothing. No relief. No comfort. Just emptiness.
Home. My prison for the last thousand years.
The carriage stops at the gates. I climb out without waiting for help.
"Your Majesty," the driver says hesitantly. "Will you need me tomorrow?"
Will I? I don't even know if I'll be here tomorrow. The kings might send soldiers. Matthias might come with whatever he's planning.
"I'll send word if I do," I say.
He nods and drives away quickly. Everyone wants to get away from me quickly now.
I walk through my palace gates alone. The guards bow but won't meet my eyes. The servants I pass in the corridors press themselves against the walls like I might attack them.
I want to scream at them. I want to tell them I'm not dangerous, I'm just tired. I want to explain that I've protected these kingdoms for centuries, kept the peace, stopped wars.
But what's the point? They've already decided who I am.
The monster queen. The dark magic user. The immortal who wants to die.
I climb the stairs to my chambers. Each step feels heavier than the last. My body doesn't get tired—another curse of immortality—but my soul is exhausted.
My bedroom door opens with a soft click. Everything is exactly as I left it this morning. Bed made. Books stacked neatly. Curtains drawn back from the balcony doors.
Three thousand years, and I still make my bed every morning like it matters.
I walk to the balcony and step outside.
The sun is setting. Orange and pink and purple spreading across the sky like paint. It's beautiful.
I've watched this same sunset from this same balcony for a thousand years.
The colors never change. The beauty never fades.
And I never feel anything anymore.
That's the real curse. Not the immortality. Not the inability to die. It's the numbness. The emptiness. The slow erosion of everything that makes you human until you're just... existing.
I grip the balcony railing. The black crystal is cold under my hands.
"Marcus," I whisper to the empty air. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Marcus. My husband for one day. Dead for three thousand years. The sorcerer Aldric cursed me on our wedding day because he loved me and I didn't love him back. Marcus died in my arms, his life force stolen to power my immortality.
I've been carrying his soul inside me ever since. At least, that's what I think the curse does. I can feel something—someone—woven into my very existence. A presence that's both me and not me.
Maybe I'm going insane. Three thousand years alone would drive anyone insane.
The sunset fades to twilight. Stars appear one by one. I count them like I count everything else. Anything to fill the endless, empty time.
A knock on my bedroom door makes me turn.
"Your Majesty?" A servant's voice, nervous and quiet. "Lord Kael Moonshadow is here to see you."
Kael. Of course he came. He always comes when I'm in trouble.
"Send him away," I say.
"He says it's urgent, Your Majesty."
Everything is always urgent to mortals. They have so little time, they think every moment matters.
They're right. Every moment does matter.
Except when you have infinite moments. Then none of them matter at all.
"Fine," I sigh. "Send him up."
The servant's footsteps fade. I stay on the balcony, watching the stars multiply in the darkening sky.
Kael will try to comfort me. He'll offer to help. He'll say he's here for me.
And I'll push him away like I always do. Because letting people close only means more pain when they eventually leave.
Everyone leaves.
Everyone dies.
Everyone except me.
I hear my bedroom door open. Kael's footsteps on the floor—familiar after centuries of knowing him.
"Elara," he says softly from the balcony doorway.
I don't turn around. "You shouldn't have come."
"I heard about the Summit." He steps onto the balcony beside me. "Matthias betrayed you."
"Yes."
"The kings turned against you."
"Yes."
"You're alone."
"I'm always alone, Kael." I finally look at him. He's as handsome as ever—immortal like me, cursed differently but cursed nonetheless. "That's the point of immortality. Everyone else dies. We stay."
Pain flashes across his face. We loved each other once, centuries ago. I pushed him away because watching him try to reach my deadened heart was killing us both.
"You don't have to be alone," Kael says. "I'm still here. I'm always here."
"For how long?" I shake my head. "Even you will die eventually, Kael. Your curse isn't true immortality—you age, just slowly. In another thousand years, you'll be gone too. And I'll still be here. Watching. Waiting. Alone."
"Then let me be here for the time I have left."
"No." The word comes out harsher than I mean it. "I can't, Kael. I can't let anyone close anymore. It hurts too much when they leave."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then: "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know." The truth. "Matthias is planning something. He said someone is coming for me. Someone who knows about my curse."
"Then you need protection. Guards. Allies. You need—"
"I need to die," I interrupt. "That's what I need. That's all I've ever needed."
Kael grabs my shoulders, forcing me to face him. "Don't talk like that. There has to be another way. We'll find a way to break the curse without—"
"I've tried everything!" I pull away from him. "For three thousand years, I've searched for a way to break this curse. There is no other way. The only solution is death, and I can't even have that!"
My voice echoes off the palace walls. Kael stares at me with heartbreak in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he finally says. "I wish I could help you. I wish I could take this burden from you."
"You can't. No one can." I turn back to the sunset, now almost gone. "Please leave, Kael. I need to be alone."
"Elara—"
"Please."
He hesitates. Then I hear his footsteps retreating. The balcony door closes softly.
I'm alone again.
The stars are fully out now. Millions of them, scattered across the black sky like diamonds.
I've watched stars be born and die. Literally. Three thousand years is long enough to see cosmic changes.
Stars get to die. Why don't I?
A new thought forms in my mind. Dangerous. Desperate. Probably insane.
But I've tried everything else.
What if I can't kill myself because the curse won't let me harm myself? What if I need someone else to do it?
Someone skilled.
Someone deadly.
Someone who kills for a living.
My heart—my cursed, immortal heart—beats faster.
An assassin. I could hire an assassin.
The thought should horrify me. Instead, it feels like hope.
Actual, real hope for the first time in centuries.
I turn and walk back into my bedroom. My desk sits in the corner, covered in books and papers.
I sit down, pull out fresh parchment, and pick up my quill.
I'm going to do something incredibly stupid.
I'm going to hire someone to kill me.
And for the first time in three thousand years, I smile.