The Kingdom of Elarith was known for its beauty. Some said it was cursed to remain perfect forever—unchanging, untouched by time. Even in winter, when the rest of the world slept under frost and silence, the roses in the palace gardens bloomed like it was spring. Their red petals were soft as silk, their scent sweet and thick in the air. It made the kingdom feel alive. Too alive, almost.
And no one embodied that strange beauty more than Prince Kael.
He stood beside the king that morning, tall and still, dressed in a sapphire cloak that shimmered like water beneath the sunlight. Silver clasps pinned it to his shoulders, and his golden hair was neatly tied back, a few curls brushing against his jaw. The people gathered in the courtyard below, cheering as he raised a hand and gave them that smile. The one that could charm a room into silence or laughter, depending on what he needed.
That smile was his weapon. His mask.
Only a few noticed that his eyes never smiled with the rest of his face.
Among the crowd, a girl stood with a worn basket on her hip, staring up at the balcony. Her name was Maren, and though she came from nothing—a baker's orphaned granddaughter—she found herself near the palace more often than she'd admit. She'd tell people she came for errands or to sell bread, but that was only half-true.
She came to see him.
There was something about Prince Kael that didn't sit right with her. Something off. Too perfect. Too polished. She'd heard the whispers, too, usually from older women who drank too much spiced wine and had seen too many winters.
"That boy's cursed," one had said just last week, folding dough with tired hands. "Teeth like a fox. Eyes like a snake. Handsome, yes—but don't you let that fool you. Pretty things can still bite."
Maren didn't know what to believe. She'd seen him from afar dozens of times, and while there was something... unsettling... about him, he never looked cruel. Just sad. Like he was carrying something no one else could see.
The prince stepped back from the balcony after a final wave, disappearing behind the carved stone archways of the palace. The crowd cheered louder for a moment, then slowly began to drift away, their hunger for royal attention briefly satisfied.
Maren lingered. She looked up at the empty balcony, wondering what it must feel like to look down on the world like that. To belong to something bigger than yourself. To wear a crown—even a cursed one.
---
Inside the castle, the light dimmed.
Kael moved through the halls without a word, each step echoing on the marble floors. His presence was enough to make servants bow without being told. He didn't return their glances. He didn't smile. Not here.
The corridors were cold this time of year, even though fire pits burned behind every third pillar. The heat didn't reach him. It hadn't in years.
He caught his reflection in one of the tall glass windows. Flawless skin. Sharp cheekbones. A face the kingdom adored. But it wasn't his face—not really. Just the version he wore during the day.
He leaned closer to the glass and whispered to himself, "It's only a shell."
"Talking to yourself now?"
Kael didn't flinch. He knew that voice.
"Elion," he said without turning.
His younger brother leaned casually against the doorway of his chambers. Unlike Kael, Elion never smiled. His expressions were dry and honest, and his eyes—though the same shade of storm-gray—held no warmth.
"You looked tired out there," Elion said as he stepped inside. "Smiling too hard?"
"I'm always tired," Kael muttered, loosening the clasp of his cloak. "The role gets heavier every year."
"You could stop pretending."
Kael shot him a sharp glance. "And let them see the truth? Let them see me?"
Elion didn't answer.
Kael crossed to the window overlooking the palace garden. From here, he could see the twisting rows of rose bushes, glowing under the early afternoon sun. Red. Always red. The color of blood, though no one seemed to notice.
He said quietly, "It's getting harder."
"I know."
"The hunger—it doesn't sleep anymore. It used to quiet down after a few days. Now it claws at me even when I'm awake."
Elion walked to the hearth and stoked the fire. "Then feed."
"No," Kael snapped. "Not yet."
"You can't starve it out of yourself, brother. You've tried. You always try."
Kael closed his eyes. "I'm still trying."
---
That evening, as the last rays of sun dipped behind the horizon, Maren took the forest path home. It was longer than the village road, but quieter. The trees whispered in a way that comforted her, and she needed that calm after watching the prince.
She didn't know what had gotten into her lately. She wasn't some palace maid with dreamy eyes and fantasies of silk sheets. She had real problems. Her grandmother's illness. The rising price of flour. The way the animals had stopped coming to the traps in the woods.
But still... her thoughts returned to Kael.
Maybe it was because he seemed trapped too. Like her.
She reached a bend in the path, where the trees leaned closer together and the moonlight filtered in like silver mist. The air felt strange tonight. Still. Heavy.
That's when she heard it.
Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.
She turned sharply, her heart thudding.
A figure stepped out of the trees.
Prince Kael.
Maren froze. "Your Highness...?"
He didn't answer right away. Just stood there, watching her with eyes that didn't look quite human in the moonlight. She noticed then—he wasn't dressed like before. No royal cloak. No polished boots. Just a simple black coat that made him look almost like a shadow.
"How do you know my name?" she asked.
"I've seen you," he said softly. "Near the gates. Always watching."
Maren's throat tightened. "That doesn't explain—"
"Do you fear me, Maren?"
The way he said her name sent a shiver through her.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Kael tilted his head. For a moment, he looked curious. Then something flickered behind his eyes—something old and dangerous. He took one step forward.
"You should," he said quietly.
And just like that, he turned and vanished into the trees, leaving her standing alone with her heart racing and the silence pressing in all around her.