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The morning sun bathed the towering spires of Eldoria's castle in a golden hue, casting long shadows over the kingdom below. From her balcony, Princess Elara watched the capital city come to life. Merchants were already setting up their stalls, while farmers led their wagons of produce toward the bustling market square. It was a scene she had seen every morning for as long as she could remember, yet today it felt distant, like a painting viewed from behind a glass.
Elara stood alone, the wind tousling her long, raven-black hair. The weight of her silk gown tugged at her shoulders, a reminder of the royal obligations she was born into. Today was supposed to be special—a celebration of peace and unity between Eldoria and their long-standing rival, the Kingdom of Aeloria. King Alaric, her father, had orchestrated a marriage alliance, one that would tie the two kingdoms together forever. And she, Elara, was the key to it all.
She should have been excited. As the eldest daughter of King Alaric, her duty was clear: to marry, unite the kingdoms, and produce an heir. It was a noble cause, one that any other princess might have embraced with pride. But for Elara, it felt like a prison.
The knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts. She turned as Lady Maera, her closest attendant and confidante, stepped inside, her eyes brimming with excitement.
"Your Highness, the preparations are nearly complete. You should see the Grand Hall—it's more beautiful than ever. The musicians are practicing as we speak, and the entire court is buzzing about the engagement ceremony tonight."
Elara forced a smile, though her heart felt heavy. "Thank you, Maera. I'm sure everything will be perfect."
Lady Maera approached her with a knowing look. "I know this isn't easy for you. But you must understand, your father does this for the good of the kingdom. The alliance with Aeloria will bring peace and prosperity to both lands. And Prince Adrian…well, he is quite charming."
Elara had met Prince Adrian only once, during his visit last summer. He had been courteous, handsome even, with soft blond curls and a quick smile. But there had been no spark between them, no connection beyond the surface pleasantries of royal protocol. He was a stranger, one who would soon become her husband.
"I'm sure he is," Elara replied softly, turning back to the view. Below, the city stretched out as far as the eye could see, a vast network of streets and homes, all teeming with life. How she envied the people down there—their freedom, their ability to make choices for themselves.
"I just wish…" she hesitated, knowing how foolish it would sound. "I wish I could live a different life, even for a moment."
Lady Maera's smile faltered, but she said nothing. Instead, she stepped closer and took Elara's hand in hers. "Duty is a heavy burden, but you carry it with grace. And perhaps, in time, you will find happiness in this union."
Elara nodded, though her heart remained unconvinced.
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That evening, the palace was bathed in candlelight. The Grand Hall glittered with gold and crystal, its high ceilings adorned with tapestries depicting Eldoria's greatest victories. Nobles from both kingdoms filled the room, their laughter and conversations blending with the music that floated from the corner of the room.
Elara sat at the head table, her father, King Alaric, beside her. The king, a broad-shouldered man with a graying beard, looked every bit the formidable ruler he was. His eyes sparkled with pride as he looked upon the gathered guests, his voice booming with authority as he made small talk with the Aelorian nobles. To his right sat Prince Adrian, impeccably dressed in Aeloria's royal colors. He smiled politely at Elara, though his eyes seemed distant, as if he too felt the weight of duty pressing down on him.
The feast was grand, the finest dishes from both kingdoms served in abundance. But Elara barely touched her plate. She kept her gaze fixed on the far end of the hall, where the heavy wooden doors stood closed, as if she were waiting for something—anything—to interrupt the night's proceedings.
As the evening wore on, King Alaric rose from his seat, lifting a goblet high in the air. The room fell silent as he began his speech.
"My friends, tonight we celebrate not just a union of two hearts, but the union of two great kingdoms. Eldoria and Aeloria have been allies for generations, and now, through the marriage of my daughter, Princess Elara, and Prince Adrian, we will cement that bond for all time."
Applause filled the room, but Elara barely heard it. Her pulse quickened, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced around the hall, searching for an escape, but the walls seemed to close in on her. The expectations, the future that was being planned for her—it all felt suffocating.
Suddenly, the doors at the far end of the hall burst open, drawing the attention of every guest. A figure stumbled into the room, breathing heavily as if he had run a great distance. He was a guard, one of Eldoria's own, his armor dented and his face pale with fear.
"Your Majesty!" he gasped, his voice echoing through the silent hall. "The northern borders…they've been breached!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. King Alaric's face hardened, his hand tightening around his goblet.
"By whom?" he demanded, his voice cold and commanding.
The guard swallowed hard before answering. "We don't know, Your Majesty. They came under the cover of night…an army of shadows. They overwhelmed our forces before we could send word."
Elara's heart sank as a cold chill swept through the room. She had heard tales of such dark forces before—whispers of an ancient evil that had once plagued the lands, long before her father's reign. Could it be possible that those old stories were more than just legend?
King Alaric stood tall, his voice unshaken. "Send word to the generals. Mobilize the army at once. We will meet this threat head-on."
As the king began issuing orders, the crowd erupted into hushed conversations, fear spreading like wildfire through the hall. Elara, however, remained silent, her mind racing. The northern borders were far from the capital, but the fact that they had been breached at all was troubling.
And then, as she glanced toward her brother, Prince Tristan, she saw something that made her blood run cold. For just a brief moment, a flicker of satisfaction crossed his face—a look of triumph quickly masked by concern.
Elara's heart skipped a beat. What could Tristan possibly have to gain from an attack on their kingdom?