The knights turned as Lady Seraphina Laurent, the Queen's goddaughter, entered the room. Her emerald gown swayed elegantly with her stride, though her sharp eyes betrayed a storm of emotions beneath her composed exterior.
"Lady Seraphina," Kael greeted her with a brief nod. "I didn't know you had returned."
"I arrived only moments ago," Seraphina replied smoothly, her gaze sweeping the room. "I couldn't ignore the troubling rumors I've been hearing."
She paused, her tone hardening. "Lucien—our crown prince—saved the Villainess Astrid Valehart. Is it true?"
Kael hesitated but nodded. "It is."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "And now I hear they've disappeared together? You should've informed me sooner."
Kael raised a brow. "With respect, my lady, this isn't something you needed to concern yourself with."
"Not concern myself?" Seraphina's voice rose, and her fingers curled tightly around the edges of her cloak. "If Lucien has become entangled with her, it is a danger not only to him but to the kingdom. He has responsibilities—he cannot afford to be distracted by... sentiment."
The knights exchanged uneasy glances as Kael regarded her coolly. "Lucien is stronger than you give him credit for, Lady Seraphina. And he's not easily swayed by emotions."
"Perhaps," Seraphina said, her tone clipped. "But even he may not realize the danger she poses. I left the palace briefly, thinking I could trust this place to remain stable in my absence. Clearly, that was a mistake."
Kael's jaw tightened. "We are doing everything we can to locate him. If you have nothing useful to add, I suggest you leave us to it."
Seraphina's eyes flashed, but she forced a calm smile. "Very well. But know this—Lucien may not yet realize the threat Astrid represents, but I do. And I will ensure it doesn't escalate further."
With that, she swept out of the room, leaving an air of tension in her wake.
One of the younger knights muttered under his breath, "She speaks like she's in charge of the prince's affairs."
Kael exhaled heavily, his fingers gripping the edge of the map. "She acts that way because she can. Don't forget, she's the Queen's goddaughter. That gives her certain... liberties."
The knights exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Seraphina's influence hanging heavy in the room.
"Do you think she'll interfere?" one knight asked cautiously.
Kael exhaled heavily, his fingers gripping the edge of the map. "She's determined enough to try. Let's hope she doesn't make things worse."
Back in the depths of the cursed passage, Astrid pressed her back against the cold stone wall, her breathing shallow as she tried to regain her bearings. The shadows still loomed, but the whispers had faded, leaving an oppressive silence in their wake.
"Lucien!" she called, her voice echoing.
"I'm here," came his reply, distant but steady.
Astrid moved toward the sound, her grip tightening on her blade. Her magic flickered faintly, a soft glow illuminating the jagged path ahead.
When she finally found Lucien, his sword was drawn, his stance guarded. "Ronan?" he asked, his tone sharp.
Astrid shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. "The shadows took him. He's gone."
Lucien's jaw clenched, his grip on his sword tightening. "We'll find him. But first, we need to get out of here."
Astrid nodded, though a pang of guilt twisted in her chest. She had to believe Ronan could survive—just as she and Lucien had survived worse.
As they pressed on, the faint glow of runes guided their path, but the weight of the curse seemed heavier now, its grip tightening with every step.
The oppressive silence wrapped around them like a suffocating shroud, broken only by the sound of their footsteps on uneven stone. The faint glow of the runes pulsed with an almost sinister rhythm, casting long shadows that danced unnaturally on the cavern walls.
Astrid felt the weight of the situation pressing against her chest. She had faced worse, or so she told herself. But the thought of Ronan being alone, vulnerable, in this cursed place made her stomach twist. Guilt gnawed at her as she glanced at Lucien, who moved ahead with steady precision, his sword glinting faintly in the rune-light.
"You think he'll survive?" she asked quietly, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant.
Lucien didn't look back, but his reply was firm. "Ronan's stronger than he appears. If he can hold out, we'll find him."
The certainty in his voice steadied her, but it also made her wonder how he could remain so composed when everything around them felt like it was unraveling.
The passage narrowed again, forcing them closer together. Astrid trailed just behind Lucien, her eyes fixed on his broad shoulders as her mind drifted. The memories of her two lives were like two rivers running parallel, and sometimes they intersected in ways she couldn't control.
"I've been here before," she said softly, surprising even herself.
Lucien glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowed. "In this passage?"
"No," she admitted, shaking her head. "Not here. But in places like this. Dark, cursed, forgotten."
He stopped, turning to face her fully. The faint glow of the runes softened his sharp features, but his gaze was unwavering. "You've been in cursed places before?"
Astrid hesitated, the words catching in her throat. She had always guarded the truth of her rebirth carefully, assuming no one would believe her. And yet, in this moment, the weight of her secrets felt too heavy to bear alone.
"Not... exactly," she said finally. "But I've seen enough darkness to recognize it."
Lucien studied her, his expression inscrutable. After a moment passed, he asked,"What happened to you, Astrid?"
The question was simple, but it pierced through her defenses like a blade. She opened her mouth to deflect, to laugh it off with one of her usual quips, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He wasn't mocking her or prying for sport. He genuinely wanted to understand.
Astrid leaned against the jagged wall, her breath shallow as the weight of Lucien's question lingered in the air. His gaze was steady, his patience unwavering. For a fleeting moment, she considered deflecting—turning the inquiry into another verbal sparring match. But the truth clawed at her, demanding release.
"You want to know what happened to me?" she asked softly, her voice almost swallowed by the oppressive silence of the passage.
Lucien nodded, his expression unreadable. "I asked, didn't I?"
Astrid let out a bitter laugh, more for herself than for him. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
She looked away, her fingers tracing the faint glow of the runes as she began.
"I lost my family," she said quietly, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "And with them, I lost everything that made sense. I had to become someone else to survive. You see, people love their heroes, but they need their villains too. Someone to blame when things fall apart.
"I wasn't always this," she said, gesturing vaguely to herself. "Once, I was just a girl. A happy girl. My family, the Valeharts, were nobility—a name spoken with respect, even admiration. My father, Elias Valehart, served as an advisor to the king. My mother, Selene, was the kind of woman who could silence a room with her grace."
Her voice softened, her tone almost wistful. "And I was the youngest. Mischievous, curious, always getting into trouble. But my troubles were harmless back then. My biggest worries were sneaking extra desserts or perfecting my embroidery to impress my tutors."
Lucien listened in silence, his grip on his sword loosening slightly as he absorbed her words.
"But life is never perfect," Astrid continued, her voice hardening. "Whispers began to spread in the court—rumors of treachery tied to my father's name. He brushed them off, confident in his loyalty to the crown. But loyalty doesn't matter when you're surrounded by vipers."
Her gaze darkened, her fingers curling into fists. "Soldiers came in the night. They dragged my father away in chains, calling him a traitor. My mother begged for mercy, but her cries fell on deaf ears. I didn't understand then. I was too young to grasp the weight of what was happening."
She paused, her chest tightening as the memories surfaced. "They executed him a week later. No trial, no evidence—just accusations and a crowd thirsty for blood. My mother… she never recovered. Grief consumed her, and by winter's end, she was gone too."
Astrid's voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. "The Valehart name became a curse. Our lands were taken, our titles stripped. Friends vanished, and the same people who once praised my father now whispered behind my back. They called us traitors, liars, unworthy of redemption."
Her smirk returned, but it was hollow. "I learned quickly that kindness was a liability. Vulnerability was a weakness. So, I became what they feared. Manipulative, ruthless, a girl who struck before she could be struck. If they wanted a villain, I gave them one."
Lucien's brow furrowed, but he didn't interrupt.
"I outmaneuvered my enemies at court, clawing my way back to some semblance of power. I thought I was safe. I thought I'd won. But the court is a dangerous place, and I'd made too many enemies. They accused me of treason—just like my father."
Her voice broke slightly, though her expression remained defiant. "They dragged me to the scaffold. The crowd jeered, their faces filled with hatred and triumph. I stood there, waiting for the end, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. And then… I died."
Lucien's breath hitched, but he remained silent, his eyes fixed on her.
"When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in the afterlife," Astrid said, her voice soft but steady. "I was here. In this body, in this life. The memories of my past were still with me, but the world had changed. It was cruel irony, really. Fate had given me a second chance, but I was still trapped in a narrative where I was the villain."
She met Lucien's gaze, her own sharp and unyielding. "Do you know what it's like to wake up with the knowledge that everyone hates you? That the world sees you as a monster, and no one cares about the truth?"
Lucien's jaw tightened, his expression darkening. "I can't say that I do."
Astrid let out a humorless laugh. "It's a lesson in resilience, I'll tell you that. I tried to change. Tried to fix what I could, but the past doesn't let go so easily. I've spent every moment since my rebirth fighting to stay ahead of the shadows."
For a long moment, there was only silence between them. The faint hum of the runes filled the air, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across their faces. Then Lucien spoke, his voice low. "You weren't always like this."
Astrid looked at him sharply, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
He hesitated, his fingers tightening slightly on the hilt of his sword. "I remember you. Before... everything. You weren't cruel. You weren't heartless. You were... kind."
The word hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken memories. Astrid's chest tightened, and she felt the sting of something dangerously close to regret.
"And look where that got me," she said, forcing a smirk she didn't feel.
Lucien stepped closer, his presence grounding her even as it unsettled her. "You think kindness is weakness. It's not."
Astrid met his gaze, her smirk fading. For once, she didn't have a quick retort. The intensity in his eyes unnerved her, but it also made her feel seen in a way she hadn't expected.
"Maybe," she said finally, her voice softer. "But it's hard to believe that when the world punishes you for it."
Lucien didn't reply immediately. Instead, he reached out, his gloved hand brushing against her arm—just a fleeting touch, but enough to steady her. "You've survived because you're strong, Astrid. But strength doesn't mean shutting everyone out."
The sincerity in his voice left her momentarily speechless. She looked away, pretending to inspect the runes on the wall as she tried to regain her composure. "Careful, Your Highness," she said lightly. "People might start thinking you have a heart."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Let them."
Their conversation was cut short as the runes flared brightly, the air crackling with energy. The ground beneath them trembled, and a low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows ahead.
Astrid's magic flared instinctively, her hands glowing faintly as she prepared for whatever was coming. Lucien stepped in front of her, his sword raised and his stance steady.
"Stay behind me," he ordered, his voice firm but not unkind.
Astrid rolled her eyes but obeyed, knowing better than to waste time arguing. "Whatever it is, it's big."
The growl grew louder, and the shadows began to coalesce, forming a hulking figure that towered over them. Its eyes burned like embers, and its claws scraped against the stone, sending sparks flying.
Lucien tightened his grip on his sword, his expression grim. "Ready?"
Astrid smirked faintly, her magic crackling in her palms. "Always."
Together, they faced the darkness.