Bloodline of cursed thrones

CH 3

The unsettling encounter with the demon still lingered in Eveline's mind, a chill that clung to her despite the warmth of the night. Every nerve in her body had screamed to run, to escape the monster that had wrapped its shadowy tendrils around her, but here she was, alive. Barely.

After assembling herself, she ate her dinner in the solitude of her chambers, the silence thick around her. The food tasted like ash in her mouth, her mind racing with questions. Who am I now? What have I become?

The demon had spoken of a power running through her veins—through the queen's veins. It was not her own, yet she felt it pulsing beneath her skin like an unfamiliar current. The queen's magic, is bound to the royal bloodline. A curse.

Eveline had heard the rumors before, whispers of the royal family practicing forbidden magic long before the church came to power. People said the royal family was cursed—that they were the spawn of devils, their madness an inherited fate. The early deaths of the former king and queen were always shrouded in mystery, and many had speculated it was the darkness in their blood that had claimed them.

But Eveline had never believed such tales in her past life. Superstition. Folklore. Yet now... after what she had experienced, those old rumors didn't seem so far-fetched.

After dinner, she found herself restless, her mind unable to settle. The demon's voice echoed in her thoughts. You are mine now.

She needed answers.

Leaving the dim comfort of her chambers, she made her way through the silent halls of the palace, her feet guiding her to the one place that might hold the knowledge she sought—the royal library. If the ancient magic was real, if there was truth behind the whispers of a cursed bloodline, she would find it there.

The library was vast, its towering shelves filled with the kingdom's history. Scrolls, tomes, and manuscripts stretched far beyond her reach. But despite its grand appearance, it felt abandoned. Forgotten. Dust covered the surfaces, and the smell of old paper and damp air filled the room.

Eveline ran her fingers along the spines of the books, her heart racing. Where do I start?

Hours passed as she sifted through texts that spoke of the kingdom's long-forgotten wars, treaties, and alliances. But there was nothing—no mention of magic, no sign of the ancient practices that were once whispered about. Frustration gnawed at her, the weight of her helplessness pressing down.

She was about to give up when something caught her eye. A small, nondescript cupboard tucked away in the corner, almost hidden behind a stack of old chairs. She approached it, her fingers tracing the worn wood. Could this be it?

With a creak, she pulled the cupboard open, revealing a collection of tattered, half-burned books. Their pages were yellowed with age, some torn beyond recognition, but Eveline's eyes immediately fell on one book in particular—a thick, leather-bound tome that seemed to hum with a strange energy.

She pulled it out carefully, her fingers brushing away the dust. The title was barely legible, but she could make out enough: The Bloodline of Kings.

Eveline's pulse quickened as she opened the book, its brittle pages crackling under her touch. The words were written in an ancient dialect, but she could understand enough. This is it.

The book chronicled the royal family's history, but not the kind found in the polished history books of the court. This was the raw truth, buried beneath centuries of lies and suppression. The royal bloodline was cursed. Every member of the family, after reaching adulthood, had succumbed to madness—one by one, their minds deteriorating, their lives ending in mysterious deaths.