Eleanor's POV
The cell is so dark I can't see my own hands.
But I can see the shadows leaking from them.
Black mist drips from my fingers like water, pooling on the stone floor. Everywhere the darkness touches, the stone cracks and crumbles. I pull my hands against my chest, trying to stop it, but it keeps coming.
I'm rotting. I'm rotting from the inside out.
"Please," I whisper to the empty cell. "Somebody help me."
Nobody comes.
I don't know how long I've been here. Hours? Days? Time feels strange, like I'm floating underwater. My body hurts everywhere—a deep, burning ache that never stops. The black veins have spread past my elbows now, crawling up my shoulders like evil roots.
Every breath is harder than the last.
The door crashes open. Torchlight blinds me. I shield my eyes, and two guards step inside. They wear full armor and keep their distance, like I'm a dangerous animal.
"On your feet," one says. "The King wants to see you."
Hope flares in my chest. My father wants to see me! Maybe he's found a cure. Maybe he's forgiven me. Maybe everything will be okay.
The guards don't touch me as I stumble after them. They won't even look at me. We walk through the palace—my home—and servants scatter when they see me coming. A little girl points at me and cries. Her mother yanks her away, glaring at me with pure hatred.
My heart breaks a little more with each step.
They bring me to the throne room. My father sits on his throne, wearing his crown and his coldest expression. The Council Elder stands beside him. My mother isn't here. She couldn't even face me.
"Eleanor," Father says. No warmth. No love. Just my name, hard as ice.
"Father, please—" I start.
"You are not my daughter anymore." His words cut like knives. "My daughter died the moment she touched that cursed tree."
"It was an accident!" Tears burn my eyes—normal tears this time, not the black ones. "I didn't know what would happen. Please, you have to believe me!"
"It doesn't matter what you knew." The Elder steps forward. "You are Shade-Born now. An abomination. Light and shadow cannot exist together. The corruption will consume you completely within weeks, maybe days. You will become a monster that kills everything it touches."
"Then help me!" I fall to my knees. The stone floor cracks beneath me. "There must be a cure. Some kind of magic—"
"There is no cure for what you are," Father says. His voice is so cold. This isn't the man who taught me to ride horses. This isn't the father who called me his 'little star.' "At dawn, you will be taken to the Borderlands and exiled. If you ever return to Starfall, you will be executed on sight."
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. Exiled. Cast out. Alone.
"But I'll die out there," I whisper.
"Yes," Father agrees. "You will. Better that than becoming a monster within our walls."
He's going to let me die. My own father is sending me to my death.
A soft laugh makes me turn. Seraphine stands in the doorway, watching. Her silver hair gleams in the torchlight—no black streaks, no corruption. She got the magic I was supposed to have. She's perfect, and I'm ruined.
"May I speak with my sister?" Seraphine asks sweetly. "One last time?"
Father waves his hand. The guards step back, giving us space. Seraphine glides over and kneels beside me, like she's being kind. But when she leans close, her whisper is sharp as glass.
"Did you really think you'd be queen? You were always too weak, Eleanor. Too soft. Father needed a strong heir."
My blood runs cold. "What did you do?"
"I made a deal." Her smile is beautiful and terrible. "That tree appeared because someone wanted it there. Someone who promised me the throne if I could get you to touch it." She tilts her head. "You made it so easy. One little challenge to your pride, and you walked right into the trap."
Rage floods through me, hot and fierce. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Seraphine stands, her expression innocent again. "Goodbye, sister. Try not to die too quickly in the Borderlands. I want to enjoy being the crown princess for a while."
She walks away, and I want to scream. I want to attack her. I want to make her confess in front of Father. But what's the point? He wouldn't believe me anyway. I'm the monster now. She's the perfect daughter.
The guards drag me back to my cell. At dawn, they'll throw me away like garbage.
I curl up on the stone floor, shadows still leaking from my hands. My whole body shakes. I can feel the corruption spreading, eating me alive from the inside. The Elder was right—I have days, maybe less.
I'm going to die alone in the Borderlands.
But as I lie there in the darkness, something strange happens. The shadow magic inside me pulses, almost like a heartbeat. And suddenly I feel it—a pull, like an invisible thread tugging at my chest.
Something is calling to me.
Something in the Borderlands.
Something that wants me to find it.
The corruption surges stronger, and I gasp as the black veins reach my heart.
Whatever's calling to me, I'd better find it fast.
Before there's nothing left of me to save.