Seraphina, King Alaric, and Kael settled into the small sitting chamber. Alaric deliberately chose one of the old wooden chairs instead of his throne—this was not a trial or a command, but a conversation.
"So… Kael," the king said at last, studying him carefully. "That is your name?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Kael replied, bowing slightly. "I trained Queen Ismira in guiding the amulet's power. But her emotions ran too deep—too fierce to be fully tamed."
Seraphina's chest tightened. "So you left my mother to her fate," she said softly. "To die."
Kael's expression darkened with something like regret. "No. She asked me to leave. She believed she no longer needed my guidance." He paused. "I fear she was wrong."
Silence settled between them.
Alaric leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "Who are you, truly? And how can we be certain you know anything about controlling an artifact like the amulet?"
Kael met his eyes without flinching. "I cannot explain who I am—not yet. For your safety." His voice remained calm. "All I can ask is that you trust me, as the Queen once did."
The king did not look convinced, but after a long moment, he nodded.
"Very well," Alaric sighed. "Then tell us about the amulet."
Kael reached beside him and opened a massive, leather-bound book. Its cracked cover was etched with faint, shimmering symbols that seemed to shift in the candlelight.
"This amulet predates the kingdom itself," Kael began. "Many have sought it. Many have died because they misunderstood it. It is alive—sensitive to intent, emotion, blood… and even tears."
Seraphina's breath caught. Tears?
But it hadn't reacted to hers.
Kael's gaze fixed on her. "Your grief is natural. But unchecked sorrow can awaken its ancient curse. A single tear, shed at the wrong moment, could unleash devastation beyond imagining once dropped on the stone. Entire lands have fallen because the amulet was mishandled."
Alaric's hand tightened on Seraphina's shoulder. "Grief alone… could cause such ruin?"
"Not grief alone," Kael replied. "Anger. Fear. Desire. Hope. Any emotion strong enough can stir it." His voice lowered. "There are witches, sorcerers—ancient beings—who know this power. They will stop at nothing to claim it."
Seraphina's fingers curled around the stone as it warmed against her chest.
"The amulet chose you," Kael continued, "because it recognizes your courage. But it will test you."
Her pulse quickened, echoed by the crimson glow beneath her fingers. She looked up at him, awe and fear mingling in her voice.
"It… chose me."
"Yes," Kael said gently. "It chooses only those it trusts. Only those strong enough to bear its weight." His expression softened. "And you will not face it alone. I will guide you—teach you how to understand its will—and help you learn how to protect yourself from those who seek to harm you."
Warmth spread through Seraphina's chest, through her hands, into her very soul. Fear, grief, and determination braided into something steadier—something resolute.
The amulet pulsed once more, faint but insistent, as if answering her unspoken thought.
You are my new bearer.
---
King Alaric convened a small council.
"Seraphina is my only heir," he said, his voice heavy with resolve. "The amulet has made her a target. Every measure must be considered."
One adviser cleared his throat. "Your Majesty… alliances bring strength. A betrothal could offer protection. A bond of loyalty might deter those who seek the amulet."
Alaric frowned. "The logic is sound. But my daughter is young. I will not place her in the hands of a stranger without knowing their true intentions."
Another adviser suggested trials—nobles, princes, champions—tested for worthiness.
Though the king waved the idea aside, doubt lingered in his mind.
Could any betrothal truly shield her from forces already drawn to the Crimson Amulet?