Book One: Throne of Cinder and Shadow

C H A P T E R F O U R: Mhyrra

Myhrra moved with an ease born of countless stolen hours in the forest, where each ancient tree and winding path felt like an extension of herself. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and wildflowers, and the hum of cicadas mingled with the occasional call of distant birds. Sunlight pierced through the dense canopy above in shards, casting the forest floor in a dappled mosaic of gold and green. Here, Myhrra felt as if she could breathe.

In this hidden world, she was not Princess Myhrra of Aralhedae, constrained by duty and courtly expectation. She was simply Myhrra, an untamed spirit in a place where no one cared for titles or bloodlines. She wore no heavy gown here; her leather boots were scuffed and mud-streaked from the uneven terrain, and her tunic, loose and unadorned, billowed slightly with each stride. The bow across her back shifted with her movements, a familiar weight pressing into her shoulders like a reminder of her skill, of her independence.

Yet as much as she wanted to remain here, she knew it was temporary. Freedom, as she had learned, was always fleeting.

A sharp yet respectful voice cut through her thoughts, carrying over the quiet murmur of the woods. "Princess."

Myhrra didn't stop. She didn't have to look back to know who it was. Only one person carried that particular tone, hovering somewhere between exasperation and concern, a voice tempered by years of patience.

"Cain." Her voice was steady, nonchalant, as if she hadn't spent hours anticipating someone would find her. She kept her gaze fixed ahead, weaving through the trees with fluid steps. "I didn't ask to be followed."

Cain, a Kingsblade and her steadfast shadow, didn't waste time catching up, his long strides quickly matching her pace. His dark eyes, ever watchful, held that familiar look of fond amusement mixed with weariness. Myhrra knew he disapproved of her constant escapes, yet here he was again, chasing after her without question, as he had since they were children.

"You never do," he replied, an edge of humor softening his voice. "But someone has to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't get yourself killed. There are worse things out here than wolves, Myhrra."

Myhrra halted, turning to face him with a teasing grin that masked the quiet ache inside. "I can handle myself just fine. Besides, it's not like anyone at the palace would care if I disappeared for a while. They barely notice when I'm there."

Cain's expression hardened, his brow furrowing. "That's not true. You know it isn't."

She held his gaze, her smile faltering. Beneath her playful defiance lay a gnawing feeling she couldn't escape, one she'd never admit to anyone, not even Cain. "It feels that way sometimes," she said quietly, her voice laced with something almost fragile. "To them, I'm just... something they can't control, so they don't bother trying."

Cain's eyes softened, a rare tenderness there that he rarely showed to anyone else. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush her arm in a gesture of reassurance. "You're not invisible. You're wild, Myhrra—strong and free. But you're still part of Aralhedae. And, like it or not, the kingdom needs you. Your family... needs you."

Her laugh was sharp, bitter. "The kingdom needs my brother's strength. The court wants Seraphina's perfection. What could they possibly need from me?"

Cain didn't respond immediately, and for a moment, the forest was still around them. In the silence, Myhrra felt the weight of her own words, and for once, she didn't fight against it. Her heart tightened as she realized she wished, more than anything, that someone could tell her she was wrong.

But Cain didn't offer empty words of comfort. Instead, he simply remained beside her, his presence a quiet promise that, in her isolation, she was not truly alone.

After a moment, she sighed, the resolve that had led her into the woods dissolving under the weight of the reality she couldn't ignore. "Fine. Let's go back," she said, her voice tired. "Before the court sends a search party. I don't need Father lecturing me again about responsibilities."

Cain's mouth quirked into a smile, and the familiar look of exasperated amusement returned to his face. "Lead the way, Princess."

As they began the trek back, the forest seemed to grow darker, as if sensing her reluctance to leave. Each step felt like a betrayal, the call of the wild echoing faintly in her mind even as she moved closer to the palace. The taste of freedom, the feeling of untamed space, was slipping from her grasp, replaced by the familiar weight of duty that wrapped around her like invisible chains. Yet deep down, she knew Cain was right.

Something was coming. She could feel it like a distant storm rumbling on the horizon, a promise of upheaval that had been whispering to her in the quiet spaces of her mind. There was a tension that hung in the air, a sense that the world she knew was teetering on the brink of something far darker, far greater than she could understand.

She glanced at Cain beside her, wondering if he, too, felt it. His face was calm, but there was a tightness around his eyes, a guarded look that she had come to recognize. He knew, too. And somehow, that small realization brought a faint measure of comfort.

As they emerged from the trees, the familiar silhouette of the palace rose before them, cold and imposing against the evening sky. The golden light had faded, leaving the world bathed in shadows, and as she looked back at the forest, Myhrra couldn't help but feel that she was leaving a part of herself behind.

But that part, the wild, untamable part of her, would not disappear so easily. It was there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the day it would be needed.