Astrid awoke to the first rays of sunlight streaming through the narrow window of her chamber. She blinked, disoriented, her mind still lingering on the bizarre and chaotic fragments of memory from the day before. Slowly, she sat up, her body stiff from the stone-hard mattress beneath her.
"Well," she muttered to herself, her voice hoarse but tinged with dry humor, "I can confirm that wasn't a fever dream."
Swinging her legs off the bed, she let her bare feet brush the cold stone floor. The sensation grounded her. This wasn't her world, her life, or her body, but there was no use crying over it. If she was stuck in the role of Astrid Valehart, the infamous villainess, she might as well make the most of it.
She moved toward the cracked mirror leaning against the wall and paused, her storm-gray eyes locking onto the stranger's reflection staring back at her. The sharp cheekbones, the full lips, the raven-black hair—this body exuded danger and allure, a combination that could both destroy and deceive.
Astrid smirked. "If you're going to trap me in a villainess's body, you could've at least left me a better wardrobe."
The knock on the door startled her, but she masked her surprise quickly. A maid entered, her head bowed as she spoke softly, "My lady, His Highness requests your presence in court."
Astrid arched an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. "Requests or commands?"
The maid hesitated, the faint tremor in her voice betraying her discomfort. "The prince... doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Astrid chuckled under her breath. "Well, that's unfortunate for him."
The maid blinked, clearly taken aback by Astrid's lighthearted response, but Astrid waved her off before the girl could say more. "Give me a moment to prepare. I'd hate to disappoint His Highness."
She dressed quickly, smoothing out the worn fabric of her dress as best she could. It wasn't much—barely more than rags—but she wore it like armor, her confidence making up for the lack of luxury. If she was going to face a prince and his court, she would do so with her head held high.
The guards escorted her through the winding halls of the palace, their heavy boots echoing against the marble floors. Astrid took her time observing her surroundings—the towering ceilings, the elaborate tapestries depicting battles and mythological beasts, the golden chandeliers glittering like stars.
"This place is charmingly over-the-top," she remarked casually to one of the guards, who stiffened but didn't respond.
Her smirk widened. "Not much for conversation, are we? Shame."
The grand hall was a spectacle of power and wealth. Sunlight streamed through massive stained-glass windows, painting the polished marble floor in hues of gold, blue, and crimson. At the far end of the room, Prince Lucien stood like a sentinel, his piercing blue eyes fixed on her as she entered.
Astrid walked forward with purpose, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. She could feel the weight of the advisors' stares—some curious, others openly hostile. But she met their gazes with a faint, knowing smile, refusing to shrink beneath their scrutiny.
"Lady Valehart," Lucien said, his tone cold and formal.
"Your Highness," Astrid replied, dipping her head in acknowledgment. "How lovely of you to invite me."
Lucien's expression didn't waver, but the faintest flicker of something—irritation, perhaps—flashed in his eyes.
"Leave us," he commanded, his voice sharp.
The advisors hesitated, their murmurs of protest barely audible. But Lucien's glare silenced them, and one by one, they filed out of the room, leaving Astrid and the prince alone.
"You're surprisingly composed," Lucien said, his voice slicing through the silence. "Most people in your position would be begging for mercy."
Astrid tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Begging isn't really my style, Your Highness. Besides, I don't think you spared me just to watch me grovel."
Lucien's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "Do you know why you're here?"
"Because I'm apparently the root of all your problems," Astrid replied smoothly.
He took a step closer, his imposing presence filling the space between them. "You were there when this began. The curse that plagues this kingdom—whatever ritual you performed on the Heart of Eldralis caused it. You will undo it, or I will see to it that you pay for every life it destroys."
Astrid met his gaze without flinching, though her mind churned. The fragments of memory from the former Astrid Valehart's life were scattered, but they painted a picture of ambition, desperation, and forbidden magic.
"And if I don't remember the details of this ritual?" she asked, keeping her tone steady.
"Then you'd better start trying," Lucien said, his voice like ice.
Lucien led her to a hidden chamber deep beneath the palace, the air growing colder as they descended the spiral staircase. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows on the walls, the runes etched into the stone glowing faintly as they passed.
When they reached the bottom, Astrid's breath caught. The chamber was unlike anything she had ever seen. The walls shimmered with intricate patterns of light and shadow, and in the center of the room stood a pedestal. Upon it rested a crystal orb, its surface alive with swirling colors that pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
"This is the Heart of Eldralis," Lucien said, his voice low and reverent. "It is the source of the kingdom's magic—and its curse."
Astrid approached the orb cautiously, her storm-gray eyes widening as she felt its power thrumming in the air.
"What exactly happened here?" she asked, her voice soft.
Lucien's expression darkened. "Someone tampered with it. A ritual was performed years ago—one that unleashed the curse. Crops are failing, rivers are drying, and creatures of shadow are spreading across the kingdom."
Astrid frowned, fragments of memory stirring. She could almost hear the crackle of flames, the whispered incantations, the feeling of raw magic slipping out of control.
"And you think I can fix this?" she asked, glancing at him.
Lucien's gaze hardened. "You will fix it. If you don't, the kingdom will fall—and so will you."
Astrid held his gaze for a moment longer before turning back to the orb. "Well," she said lightly, "no pressure, then."
As they left the chamber, Astrid felt a strange warmth spreading through her chest. She glanced down and froze. Her hands were glowing faintly, tiny sparks of light dancing across her fingers.
"Lucien," she said, her voice steady but tinged with curiosity.
He turned, his eyes narrowing as he saw the glow. "What's happening?"
"I have no idea," she replied honestly.
Before either of them could react, a burst of energy shot from her hands, striking the wall. Vines and flowers erupted from the stone, their vibrant petals glowing faintly in the dim corridor.
Lucien stared at the display, his expression unreadable. "What did you do?"
Astrid flexed her fingers, marveling at the lingering warmth in her palms. "Apparently, I'm full of surprises."
"This isn't a joke," Lucien snapped.
"I didn't say it was," Astrid replied, her tone even. "But if this magic is tied to me, you're going to have to help me control it."
Lucien's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Fine. But you will follow my instructions. Exactly."
Over the next few days, Lucien pushed Astrid to her limits, testing her ability to control her magic. The training was grueling, and her powers often misfired, creating everything from bursts of light to harmless but embarrassing illusions.
"You're letting your emotions control you," Lucien said one afternoon as another burst of energy fizzled out.
Astrid wiped sweat from her brow, her expression one of determination. "I'll get it. Just give me time."
Lucien studied her for a moment before nodding. "We don't have much of that to spare."
Astrid stood in the palace's training grounds, her hands glowing faintly as she tried to focus on the energy swirling within her. It was a strange sensation—alive and untamed, like a flame that refused to be contained. The more she tried to force it into submission, the wilder it became.
"Stop fighting it," Lucien instructed, his voice sharp as he watched her from a safe distance.
"I'm not fighting it," Astrid shot back, her tone more frustrated than defensive. "It's like trying to leash a thunderstorm."
Lucien's gaze didn't waver. "Then stop trying to leash it. Magic isn't about control—it's about balance."
Astrid exhaled sharply, trying to let his words sink in. Balance. Right. She took a deep breath, letting the tension drain from her body. The glow in her hands flickered, dimmed, and then stabilized into a soft, steady light.
"There," Lucien said, his tone laced with approval. "Better."
Astrid glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Don't sound too impressed, Your Highness. I might think you're warming up to me."
Lucien's expression remained impassive, though she thought she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
Later that evening, Astrid found herself back in her chamber, her body aching from the day's exertions. She had barely settled onto the stiff mattress when a soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," she called, expecting one of the guards or perhaps the maid.
To her surprise, a young woman stepped inside, her auburn hair neatly braided and her eyes sharp despite the plainness of her attire.
"My lady," the woman said, curtsying.
Astrid raised an eyebrow. "You're not the usual help. Who are you?"
The woman straightened, her gaze meeting Astrid's without hesitation. "Evelyn, my lady. I've been assigned to assist you."
"Assigned by whom?" Astrid asked, her tone light but probing.
Evelyn hesitated for only a fraction of a second before replying, "By the prince."
Astrid leaned back against the wall, studying her new maid carefully. There was something about Evelyn—something guarded, like she was playing a role. Astrid decided to let it slide for now.
"Well then, Evelyn," she said, her tone warm but laced with mischief, "I hope you're ready for an interesting ride."
Evelyn's lips twitched into a faint smile. "I am, my lady."
The next day, Lucien summoned Astrid to the council chamber. The room was filled with tension, the air heavy with the weight of bad news.
"The curse is spreading faster than we anticipated," one of the advisors said, his voice strained. "Entire villages are reporting crop failures, and strange creatures have been sighted near the southern border."
Astrid listened carefully, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of her chair.
"What kind of creatures?" she asked, breaking the heavy silence.
The advisor hesitated before answering. "Shadowbeasts. Large, wolf-like creatures that seem to melt into the darkness. They've been attacking livestock—and people."
Astrid frowned, a memory flickering in the back of her mind. The former Astrid had read about shadowbeasts in an old tome, their existence tied to imbalances in magical energy. If they were appearing now, it meant the curse was destabilizing the kingdom's natural magic.
"We need to act," another advisor said urgently. "If we don't, the people will lose faith in the Crown's ability to protect them."
Lucien's gaze swept over the room, his expression cold and calculating. Finally, his eyes landed on Astrid.
"What do you know about these creatures?" he asked.
Astrid leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "Not much—yet. But if they're connected to the curse, I might be able to figure out why they're appearing and how to stop them."
"And how long will that take?" Lucien pressed.
Astrid gave him a wry smile. "I'm good, but I'm not a miracle worker. Give me a little time, and I'll see what I can do."
Lucien's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "You have two days. Don't waste them."
Back in her chamber, Astrid pored over the old books and scrolls Evelyn had brought her. The texts were filled with cryptic descriptions of shadowbeasts, magical anomalies, and rituals gone wrong. As she read, she began piecing together fragments of knowledge, her mind racing to connect the dots.
Evelyn hovered nearby, her presence quiet but steady.
"You're not just a maid, are you?" Astrid asked suddenly, her eyes never leaving the page in front of her.
Evelyn froze for a moment before replying, "What makes you say that, my lady?"
Astrid looked up, her expression amused. "You don't have the air of someone who spends their days folding linens and fetching tea. You're too sharp, too deliberate."
Evelyn hesitated before sighing softly. "You're perceptive, my lady. No, I'm not just a maid. I was assigned to... observe you."
Astrid smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Let me guess—by His Highness?"
Evelyn nodded. "Yes. He wanted someone to ensure you weren't... plotting anything."
Astrid laughed softly, shaking her head. "How very Lucien of him."
Two days later, Astrid stood at the edge of a forest just outside the capital, the air thick with tension. Lucien was at her side, his expression grim as they surveyed the scene before them.
The villagers had reported multiple attacks in the area, and the signs were clear—deep claw marks on the trees, patches of scorched earth where magic had clashed, and an unnatural stillness that made the hairs on the back of Astrid's neck stand on end.
"Stay close," Lucien warned as they moved deeper into the forest.
Astrid rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She wasn't foolish enough to underestimate the danger they were walking into.
The first shadowbeast appeared almost silently, its massive form emerging from the darkness like a living shadow. Its eyes glowed with an eerie red light, and its growl sent a shiver down Astrid's spine.
Lucien drew his sword, its blade gleaming in the dim light. "Get behind me," he ordered.
Astrid ignored him, her hands already glowing with the faint sparks of her magic. "Let's see if this works," she muttered.
The shadowbeast lunged, and Astrid raised her hands, releasing a burst of energy. The magic collided with the creature, sending it stumbling back with a pained howl.
Lucien glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Impressive."
Astrid smirked, her confidence growing. "I told you—I'm full of surprises."