The alley narrowed, shadows swallowing Zia as she pressed herself against the wall, holding her breath. The footsteps of the guards echoed down the cobblestone streets, closing in with every second. She could feel Leon's presence swirling in her mind, almost palpable, a spectral warmth pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
"You're in trouble," he murmured, his voice like a low hum of amusement.
Zia scowled, shifting her grip on the amulet hidden beneath her cloak. "I don't need advice from a cursed prince."
"Suit yourself," Leon replied smoothly. "But you've taken my amulet. I'd rather not be returned to the palace in shackles."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. His tone, calm and unruffled, was maddeningly casual given their situation. "If you're bound to me, you'd better be helpful."
Silence hung between them as the footsteps grew louder, closer. She clenched her jaw, preparing to make a run for it.
"Left," Leon instructed, his voice firm this time. "Through that door."
Zia glanced to her left. A narrow, weathered door was set into the stone wall, almost hidden by layers of grime and vines. She hadn't noticed it before, and she hesitated. Trusting anyone—even a voice in her head—wasn't in her nature. But she had little choice.
She pushed the door open, slipping through just as the guards rounded the corner. She found herself in a dusty storeroom lined with crates and barrels, dim light filtering in through a small, cracked window above. She quickly moved to the back, pressing her ear to the door as the guards' footsteps grew faint, finally fading into the distance.
A breath of relief escaped her. She let herself relax, leaning back against the wall, and felt the weight of her unexpected companion settle in.
"Why are you helping me?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Leon's voice was quieter now, softer, as if he were considering her question. "You've freed me from years of silence. I'm bound to you now—where you go, I go. I'd rather keep us both alive."
She traced her fingers over the silver amulet, feeling its strange warmth. "Is that all?"
He was silent for a long moment. "There are things I need to know. About why I was cursed, about the people responsible. If you have the amulet, you might be able to help me… in ways I couldn't help myself."
His words tugged at something deep within her, something familiar. Zia understood being driven by questions, by the need to uncover secrets. She'd stolen the amulet for her own reasons, but now it seemed she'd inherited more than a priceless artifact.
With a sigh, she pushed herself away from the wall. "Fine. But no more guiding me into suspicious alleyways without warning. I don't trust easily."
"Noted." The humor in his tone returned, an easy charm that made her wonder who he'd been before the curse.
Outside, the night was still deep, and the streets were empty now, save for a stray cat that watched her with golden eyes from the shadows. She pulled her hood up and slipped back into the alley, her mind racing with thoughts of escape and the path ahead.
Zia found herself in a small, hidden market tucked within the city's outer edge. It was a place where whispers traded for coins and secrets bought loyalty. Here, she was a known face, her reputation as the Thief of Silver and Souls whispered among vendors and mercenaries alike.
"You're taking risks," an old man at a stall murmured as she approached. His eyes were sharp beneath bushy brows, his gaze flicking down to the amulet half-hidden under her cloak. "That's a dangerous prize you're carrying."
Zia gave him a sharp smile, brushing her fingertips over the amulet. "Some say danger's part of the job."
The man's eyes gleamed with wary respect. "A word of caution, girl. That amulet's worth a kingdom. It draws more than just guards. Sorcerers, soul brokers… they won't let you keep it."
As he spoke, she felt the presence of Leon shift within her, a flicker of his awareness sharpening.
"What do you know of Madame Seraphine?" Leon's voice echoed in her mind, and she stiffened, gripping the edge of the stall.
"Madame Seraphine?" she asked, struggling to keep her tone casual.
The man's gaze grew dark. "A sorceress, powerful and merciless. Deals in stolen souls and dark magic. If she finds out you've got that amulet… well, best to stay away from her territory."
Zia nodded, her mind racing. She moved on, weaving through the crowd, but Leon's voice filled her thoughts once more.
"I know her. She was the one who cursed me."
Her breath hitched. Madame Seraphine—a name that haunted even the darkest corners of Eldralore—was responsible for his curse? Questions formed on her lips, but before she could voice them, the marketplace fell into sudden silence.
A chill settled over the crowd as a cloaked figure entered, flanked by guards. The figure's hood was pulled low, but Zia recognized the aura of cold magic that seemed to radiate from them—a sensation she felt even before Leon's presence shuddered with recognition.
"That's her," he whispered, his voice low and filled with something close to fear. "Madame Seraphine."
Madame Seraphine moved through the marketplace, her gaze scanning the crowd as though searching for something—or someone. Zia's heart pounded as she backed away, trying to disappear into the shadows, but Seraphine's gaze was sharp, as if she could see through the darkest corners.
"She knows I'm here," Leon whispered, urgency in his voice. "If she senses me… senses us…"
Without hesitation, Zia slipped behind a nearby stall, ducking low. She could feel the pulse of the amulet growing stronger, as if Leon's presence was reacting to the sorceress.
In her mind, his voice was tense. "If she catches us, she'll take the amulet back—and she won't spare you."
The threat was real. Zia had heard tales of Madame Seraphine's wrath, her obsession with claiming every soul tied to her magic. She glanced down at the amulet, feeling a strange surge of defiance.
"Then we'll have to make sure she doesn't catch us," Zia whispered, her eyes narrowing.
With a deep breath, she sprang up, darting through the crowd, moving swiftly toward a narrow alley at the market's edge. She sensed Seraphine's gaze snap in her direction, but Zia didn't look back. She had to keep moving.
Leon's voice urged her forward, guiding her through a series of winding paths that eventually led her to a hidden door, tucked between two ancient buildings. She slipped inside, her breath ragged as she closed the door behind her.
For a moment, silence.
Then Leon spoke, his voice low and resolute. "If we're to survive, we need to find a way to break my curse. The amulet won't protect us from her forever."
Zia pressed a hand to the amulet, feeling its weight—a reminder of the dangerous alliance she'd formed. She didn't know if she could trust Leon fully, but she knew one thing: Madame Seraphine was after them both, and they'd need each other to stand a chance against her.
"Looks like you're stuck with me," she murmured, her lips twisting into a faint smile.
"Let's hope that's enough," he replied softly, and for the first time, she felt a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
They were bound now, their fates entwined. And Zia knew that in a world where trust was as scarce as mercy, she had no choice but to rely on the cursed prince within her amulet if they were to survive the trials to come.