Echoes of Dark Curse

CHAPTER TWO

Water—warm and still—cradled me in a silence no one could breach. Beneath the surface, the world was muffled, the chaos of the castle fading into a slow, steady rhythm. I listened to my own heartbeat, calm but insistent, thudding like a distant war drum. Down here, I wasn't the Princess of Divinity. I wasn't a symbol. I was just a girl—breathing.

Until I couldn't.

My lungs began to burn, pleading for air. I stayed a moment longer, suspended in weightless quiet.

Then I rose.

The surface broke with a soft gasp, ripples trailing down the tub's sides. I stared ahead at the cold, grey stone wall. And just like that, the world returned: wind against the windows, birdsong in the courtyard... and below, the clatter of hooves and unfamiliar voices.

They'd arrived.

The visitors. The delegation from Serenvale. The ones who came for me.

Princess Evangeline of Thornhaven. Daughter of Light. Royal symbol of purity and power yet to manifest.

Power that had still not come.

Each night, I sat before a flickering candle, breathing, meditating, willing the flame to bend to my will. It never did. My brother could already command fire, light, even glass. My father—he never once doubted I would catch up. But I could see it in others' eyes.

The miracle girl with no miracle to show.

A knock sounded on the door. "Your Majesty," came the voice of my maid. "The King and Prince of Serenvale have arrived. May I enter to assist you?"

I exhaled. "You may, Rahel."

She stepped inside, her beige and crimson apron embroidered with the sigils of Thornhaven—golden flowers blooming along the hem. Her hair was neatly braided and wrapped, her posture perfect.

"Your brother burst in and demanded you hurry," she said, already bustling about the room, tossing a fresh gown across the bench. "He's more excited about the guests than you are."

"He always is," I murmured.

"Brotherly love," she said with a smile. "You seem less... enthused."

"Today doesn't feel right," I admitted. "It feels like the day I say no to another stranger I'm supposed to marry."

"You should speak to him first," she offered, unbothered. "You might be surprised."

"I doubt that."

She helped me wash, her motions precise as she poured white liquid into her hands and smoothed it through my hair. Afterward, I moved to the mirror and sat down, letting her brush through the dark strands.

"How far shall we cut, my lady?"

I met my own reflection. Pale skin. Soft cheeks. Eyes the color of charred oak bark. People called me beautiful, but I'd never believed them. I didn't want to be beautiful. I wanted to be powerful.

"Elbow-length," I said. "Graceful. But easy to wield a dagger with."

Rahel snorted softly and fetched the scissors.

Below, laughter echoed through the stone chimneys. Soon they would toast, smile, flatter. And I would offer another polite refusal.

King Vesper of Serenvale had visited Thornhaven since I was a child. This time, he brought his son—Prince Orion Ravenscar.

He was noble-born, brave, and reputed to have awakened his power young. He was also Aurelian's oldest friend. They had once raided cursed ruins together, defied maps, hunted shadows in the forbidden territories.