IGNITE | Sukuna

Chapter 11: Necklace of the Chosen

"The queen-to-be is mute."

This rumor spread through the imperial palace like wildfire. It was whispered in the grand halls, murmured in the servant quarters, and debated among the royal ladies. Subuhi seemed to float through her days like a shadow of her former self. She didn’t talk. Her gaze was distant, as though her mind wandered somewhere unreachable.

The royal ladies, tasked with refining her etiquette and demeanor, found themselves increasingly frustrated. Subuhi barely responded to their instructions. Even Uro and Angel, who had been her closest allies, noticed the change. She spoke to them sparingly, her words clipped and lifeless, her once sharp wit dulled.

“It’s like she’s not even here,” Angel whispered to Uro one evening.

Uro frowned, her sharp eyes narrowing. “Something happened during the sorcery test,” she muttered. “I know it. But she won’t say a word.”

Subuhi’s days passed in a hauntingly predictable pattern. She would attend her royal training, eat, and then retreat to her chambers. There were no outbursts, no sly smiles, no quiet rebellions. Just a trance-like existence. She moved like a doll, her spirit seemingly locked away.

And the crown prince? He was delighted. He watched her silence with satisfaction, her broken demeanor a balm to his bruised ego. This was the queen he wanted—submissive, docile, malleable. He had no desire for a fiery sorceress who questioned him or defied the throne. To him, this version of Subuhi was perfect.

At night, Subuhi couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard she tried, sleep refused to come. Every time her eyes closed, the haunting image of those men crept into her mind, suffocating her with shame. Tonight was no different. She tossed and turned, her body restless, her mind racing.

Then she heard it—a soft rustling, like the flapping of wings against the night air. Her eyes darted to the window, and there he was. Sukuna stood on the windowsill, the moonlight casting sharp shadows across his features.

“Wake up,” he ordered, tossing a veiled cloak at her. “We have a mission.”

The word mission sounded foreign to her ears, distant and surreal, like an echo from a life she no longer belonged to. She blinked at him, her expression blank, her thoughts slow to catch up.

Sukuna narrowed his eyes and strode closer, his annoyance palpable. Without warning, he flicked her forehead with his finger. “Have you gone deaf too? Stand up!”

His tone left no room for argument, and she didn’t try to muster one. Subuhi said nothing. Slowly, she slipped the cloak over her yukata, pulling the veil over her head. Her movements were automatic, her mind still clouded.

She approached the window, where Sukuna stood waiting. His eyes studied her briefly, unreadable as always. Then, without warning, he grabbed her by the waist.

Subuhi’s eyes widened in surprise, her voice caught in her throat, but before she could react, they leaped out the window together. The cool night air rushed past her face, carrying with it the faint scent of freedom. For the first time in what felt like forever, she took a deep breath.

The market was alive, vibrant in a way she hadn’t expected. Despite the late hour, it seemed the night refused to dim its radiance. Lanterns of every size and shape cast a warm, golden glow over the bustling streets. Their soft light danced across colorful fabrics and glinted off intricate jewelry displayed on wooden stalls. The air was rich with the aroma of spices, roasted chestnuts, and incense, blending into a heady mix that felt almost magical.