Prologue
The cold wind howled across the city wall, the gusts pushing against her like an invisible force.
Seraphina Evercrest stood on the edge of the parapet, her delicate white feet planted firmly atop the stone, feeling the chill of the wind seep through her.
Beneath her, the massive city wall stretched far below, standing proud and strong—seemingly a symbol of safety, but now a reminder of her imprisonment.
She took a deep breath, looking up at the sky. The wind rushed through the clouds, clearing them away as if heralding the arrival of winter.
She smiled softly, lost in the moment. But then, a sharp cough broke through her thoughts, and her hand flew to her lips.
Her face paled as the harsh coughing continued, each spasm weakening her further.
The cold wind intensified, buffeting her small figure on the high city wall.
It seemed as though the entire world had disappeared, leaving only her fragile body huddled against the stone.
The coughs came harder now, tearing at her lungs, making it harder to breathe. As her vision blurred, she looked down at her hand, crimson staining her fingers.
A laugh escaped her lips, bitter and hollow. It happened so soon... this body of mine is useless, she thought.
The sound of arrows being drawn reached her ears, followed by a sharp whistle.
Her eyes, now clouded, saw the guards scrambling in her direction, their bows aimed at her with deadly precision.
A shout rang out, "It's the queen! Don't shoot!" The wind carried the cry away, but the fear was unmistakable.
Seraphina blinked, unfocused, before sitting down slowly on the edge of the wall, the breeze caressing her face.
The sense of freedom in that moment was intoxicating.
She closed her eyes, imagining what it would have felt like to escape the palace, to be truly free. This wind... if only I could have felt it sooner.
A commotion interrupted her thoughts, and she opened her eyes just as a figure emerged from the distance, running toward her with urgent strides.
The man wore a robe of bright yellow, the royal dragon embroidery gleaming in the dim light.
His expression was a storm—handsome, cold, and filled with fury.
When he saw her small, frail figure perched on the edge of the city wall, his features tightened with anger, and he rushed up the steps, climbing quickly toward her.
"Seraphina Evercrest!" His voice rang out, breaking through the tension. "Come back to me!"
Her gaze shifted slowly, and she tried, but failed, to make out his features through her blurry vision. "Lysander Celestis... is that you?" she murmured weakly.
"Seraphina Evercrest!" Lysander's voice was firm, yet his desperation was evident. His forehead was clenched tight, veins standing out as he neared her. "Did you not hear me? Come back!"
She stood with difficulty, her body swaying from the powerful gusts of wind.
His outstretched hand reached toward her, but she stepped back, avoiding his touch.
Her fragile body trembled, but her resolve was stronger than ever.
The onlookers froze, watching the scene unfold in stunned silence.
Lysander took a step back in confusion, his voice cracking with disbelief. "What are you trying to do?!"
Seraphina's lips curled into a smile, though it was full of pain and desperation. "Lysander, I know everything... How long do you plan to keep it from me?" Her voice was hollow, but the words were sharp.
A single tear slipped from her eye, and as it traced down her pale cheek, it turned to blood, mingling with the streaks of sorrow.
She looked like something out of a nightmare, bloodied and broken, yet hauntingly beautiful.
Lysander's face drained of color, his gaze locking onto the blood flowing from her eyes. "What... what are you saying?" His voice trembled.
"I heard it all. The Evercrest family... they're all dead, and so is he!" Her voice cracked as the blood tears continued to pour down, carving two jagged lines down her face, a chilling testament to the agony she felt inside.
Lysander's eyes widened, his face twisting in fear. "Seraphina Evercrest! What have you done? Why are you bleeding?! Your eyes—!"
Seraphina let out a soft laugh, but it was laced with madness. The blood blurred her vision, staining the world around her red.
Everything seemed to fade away, leaving only the pain and the helplessness she had long carried.
"Seraphina, please!" Lysander shouted, his voice raw. "I won't let you die!"
His hand reached out once more, but he hesitated. Below her, the city wall stretched endlessly into the abyss, and the fall would be certain death.
He could not bear to watch her fall, yet he feared nothing more than the possibility that she might choose to do so.
She smiled faintly, the fear and doubt in her heart now replaced with a cold calm. "Not allowed?" Her voice was like a whisper, lost in the wind. "There's nothing left for me... nothing to fear."
She tilted her head back, staring at the sky, her face serene despite the tears of blood that still fell. "Lysander, if there's an afterlife, I pray that we never meet again... in another life, let us remain strangers."
And with that, she let herself fall, the wind whipping around her, her body descending into the darkness below with a haunting smile still on her lips.