KAEL
I watched as they all parted ways for me, a sea of hypocrites cloaked in velvet and jewels. Their polished smiles and lowered gazes reeked of false respect. I knew better. I knew what they whispered behind my back—the cursed prince, the abomination, the child born to bring ruin. They pretended to bow, but their words had sharper edges than any blade I'd ever faced in battle.
I wasn't supposed to exist, let alone stand here among them. My father, the King, had made that clear from the moment I drew my first breath.
I had no memory of a mother's touch or a father's embrace. My earliest recollection was of cold stone floors and the sound of steel clashing in the distance. They said my curse was foretold before my birth: a prince who could not feel pain, joy, or love. The priests called it a divine punishment. My father called it a disgrace.
He cast me out before I could even speak his name, exiling me to the northern fortress where the air was as frozen as the blood in my veins. There, I was shaped into a weapon. Pain could not weaken me. Fear could not claim me. I became the perfect soldier, the unstoppable force that crushed his enemies. And yet, I was still not enough.
Even now, as I stood before the court that had shunned me, they did not see a prince. They saw a curse.
The King's voice thundered through the hall, commanding silence. "Kael," he said, his tone sharp and authoritative. "You have served this kingdom well. It is time you fulfill another duty."
Duty. That was all I was to him. A tool. A pawn.
"A marriage has been arranged," he continued, his gaze hard and unyielding. "You will wed the daughter of Lord Galen. She will be yours, and through this union, the kingdom will gain strength."
My eyes flicked toward the woman in question as she entered the hall, her steps hesitant but deliberate. She was small, with fiery hair that cascaded like embers against the pale green of her dress. Her eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw defiance in her gaze.
Interesting.
But feelings? None.
ELYRA
The air was heavy with judgment as I walked into the hall, every pair of eyes searing into my skin. They whispered my name as though it were a curse, the poor girl betrothed to the monster prince.
I had heard the stories—the cursed heir who could not feel, the warrior who knew no mercy. I had tried to picture him a thousand times, and yet nothing prepared me for the man who stood before me.
Kael Daryen was no monster. He was beautiful in the way a blade is beautiful: sharp, cold, and dangerous. His silver eyes bore into mine, and I felt my breath hitch, not out of fear, but something I couldn't name.
"Lady Elyra," the King addressed me, his voice regal and commanding. "You will marry Prince Kael and serve this kingdom well."
Serve. That was all they saw me as. A vessel. A means to an end.
But I refused to crumble. If this was to be my fate, I would face it head-on. Meeting Kael's gaze, I dipped into a curtsy, masking the storm inside me with perfect grace.
His expression didn't change. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face. It was unnerving, like staring into the eyes of a statue. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him—a shadow behind the cold, something hidden beneath the surface.
I swore then and there: I would uncover the truth about the man they called the cursed prince
KAEL
I watched her leave the hall, her steps steady despite the weight of the stares burning into her. She didn't falter, didn't cower. Her defiance was clear, but I knew better. Strength like that often cracked under pressure. They all did.
The murmurs started the moment the doors shut behind her. "The cursed prince with a wife?" one voice whispered. "She won't last a month," another sneered.
Idiots. They acted as though I couldn't hear them, as if their pathetic voices could sting me. The King raised his hand, silencing the room. "The wedding is in three days," he declared, his tone final.
I nodded, not because I cared but because arguing was pointless. The King's commands were absolute—at least until I decided otherwise. He waved me away like I was nothing more than a servant. Without a word, I turned and walked out, the crowd parting for me as if my curse was contagious.
The palace was unchanged. Gilded halls, suffocating air, and the ever-present stench of hypocrisy. I hated it. This place was never my home—it was a gilded cage where everyone pretended, everyone lied.
As I neared my quarters, I felt a familiar presence before I saw him. "Well, well. The cursed prince returns."
Alric. My younger brother and the favored son. He leaned casually against the wall, his golden hair gleaming in the torchlight. "Marriage? You? I suppose Father couldn't think of a better punishment for the poor girl."
"Alric," I said coldly, moving past him. He grabbed my arm, his smirk widening.
"You've always been Father's weapon, Kael. Nothing more. Don't mistake this farce of a wedding for acceptance. He sent for you because you're useful. That's all you'll ever be."
I looked at him, my voice as sharp as a blade. "Let go before you lose that hand, brother."
His smirk faltered, and I saw it—the flicker of fear in his eyes. He released me, stepping aside. I didn't look back as I entered my chambers, slamming the door behind me. This palace and everyone in it would learn one truth soon enough: I wasn't here to obey. I was here to take.