A Royal's Curse

Chapter 4 : Beneath the Darkened Crown

The journey to the castle had been long and arduous, the carriage rattling over uneven roads as the landscape shifted from the familiar rolling hills of Thornwick to the dense, foreboding forest that surrounded the royal domain. As the carriage emerged from the trees, the castle came into view, a looming edifice of dark stone perched on a cliff overlooking the turbulent sea. The very sight of it sent a chill down Eleanor's spine.

The castle was a fortress, built to withstand time and tide, its high walls and towers shrouded in mist and shadow. The air was thick with the scent of salt and wet earth, the cries of seabirds echoing in the distance. It was a place of power, but also one of isolation, where the outside world seemed to cease to exist.

As the carriage came to a halt before the massive iron gates, Eleanor took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The weight of her village's fate pressed heavily upon her, but it was the unknown that truly frightened her—the prince she was to marry, the life she was to lead within these walls. She had heard the stories, of course, whispered in hushed tones by the villagers. Prince Alexander was a man of mystery, rarely seen and even less understood. Some said he was cursed, others that he was a tyrant, but all agreed on one thing: he was dangerous.

The gates creaked open, and Eleanor was led through the courtyard, her footsteps echoing against the stone. Servants moved silently about their tasks, their heads bowed, their faces expressionless. The castle seemed almost lifeless, as if the very walls were holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.

At the entrance to the main hall, Eleanor was met by a stern-faced steward who bowed stiffly. "Welcome to Blackthorn Castle, Lady Eleanor," he said in a voice as cold as the stone walls around them. "His Highness awaits you."

With that, he turned and led her inside, through a maze of corridors and stairways, each more oppressive than the last. The castle was a labyrinth of dark, narrow passageways, lit only by the occasional flickering torch. The air was heavy with the scent of old stone and burning wood, and the silence was almost deafening.

Finally, they reached a set of large, ornate doors. The steward pushed them open, revealing a grand hall lined with towering columns and lit by massive chandeliers that cast a dim, golden glow. At the far end of the hall, seated on a high-backed chair that could only be described as a throne, was Prince Alexander.

Eleanor's breath caught in her throat as her eyes fell upon him. He was tall, his broad shoulders draped in a black cloak that seemed to absorb the light around him. His hair, as dark as the night, framed a face that was strikingly handsome, yet hardened by years of something she could only describe as pain. But it was his eyes that held her captive—piercing blue, as cold and unforgiving as the sea beyond the castle walls.

He regarded her with a gaze that was both assessing and dismissive, as if she were a mere curiosity, an object to be inspected and then discarded. There was no warmth in his expression, no hint of the man behind the mask of royalty. He was every bit the prince she had been warned about—cold, distant, commanding.

"Lady Eleanor," he said finally, his voice smooth but devoid of emotion. "I trust your journey was without incident?"

Eleanor forced herself to find her voice, though it came out softer than she intended. "Yes, Your Highness."

He nodded, his gaze never leaving her face. "Good. You are here because our union will serve a greater purpose. Your village's prosperity in exchange for your hand. A simple transaction."

Eleanor swallowed hard, the reality of her situation sinking in. "I understand, Your Highness."

"Do you?" he asked, a trace of something—mockery, perhaps—flashing in his eyes. "Do you truly understand what is required of you?"

She hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I will do my duty, Your Highness. Whatever that may entail."

He stood then, his movement graceful yet commanding, and descended the steps of the dais to stand before her. He was even more imposing up close, his presence overwhelming. Eleanor had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Duty is a heavy burden, Lady Eleanor," he said quietly, his voice like a dark melody that echoed through the hall. "It is not to be taken lightly."

"I do not take it lightly," she replied, summoning what little courage she had left. "I am prepared to fulfill my role."

A shadow of a smile touched his lips, though it did not reach his eyes. "We shall see," he murmured, almost to himself. Then, louder, he said, "You will be shown to your chambers. Rest, for tomorrow begins your new life here at Blackthorn."

He turned away from her then, his cloak billowing as he ascended the dais once more, retaking his place on the throne. It was clear the audience was over.

The steward appeared at Eleanor's side, and she followed him out of the hall, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The encounter had been brief, but it had left her shaken. There was something about the prince that unnerved her, something dark and unsettling that she could not quite place. And yet, there was also a strange curiosity, a pull that she could not ignore.

As she was led through the corridors to her chambers, Eleanor couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking into a trap, one that she might never escape. The castle, with its secrets and shadows, seemed to close in around her, and the path ahead felt more uncertain than ever.

When the steward finally stopped before a heavy wooden door and opened it, Eleanor stepped inside the room that would now be hers. It was large but sparsely furnished, with a canopied bed, a small fireplace, and a single window that looked out over the bleak landscape. The fire in the hearth crackled weakly, barely enough to chase away the chill that permeated the room.

"Your belongings will be brought shortly, my lady," the steward said with a bow. "If you require anything, the bell cord by the bed will summon a servant."

"Thank you," Eleanor replied, though the words felt hollow. The steward bowed once more before leaving, closing the door softly behind him.

Alone in the dim light, Eleanor walked to the window and looked out at the darkening sky. The sea crashed against the cliffs below, a constant, relentless force, much like the situation she now found herself in. The prince was as enigmatic as the castle itself, and as much as she feared him, she could not deny the strange fascination he had awakened in her.

But as she stood there, staring out into the gathering night, Eleanor knew one thing for certain: her life, as she had known it, was over. She was now a part of this dark, mysterious world, bound to a man who was as much a stranger to her as the shadows that crept through the castle's corridors.

And as much as she dreaded what was to come, a part of her couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay hidden beneath the darkened crown.