She never forgot her vow for revenge. It burned within her like a flame, unyielding and fierce.
Yet, when Seraphina Evercrest saw the gentle figure standing beneath the pear blossoms that snowy March, her heart wavered.
Leander Celestis was different.
His kindness, his quiet elegance, and the gentleness in his every word—he wasn't like the others.
For a fleeting moment, she thought he could be her salvation.
She imagined a life where his love could shield her from the endless pain, where their marriage might reclaim the land stolen from her family.
She dared to dream that he would offer her solace, a balm for the scars left by her parents' tragic deaths.
But dreams shattered when faced with the ruthless truth of imperial power.
Leander's gentleness was no match for the venomous schemes that infested the palace.
The world around him was a battlefield of deceit and betrayal, and his pure heart stood defenseless against it.
The empire's power had shifted, spinning like a relentless wheel crushing all in its path. Seraphina was no stranger to history's harsh les sons.
Her father, though a wise and just ruler, had been blind to the dangers of ambition.
His trust in those around him, combined with years of war and the unchecked power of his generals, had sown the seeds of his downfall.
She still remembered that night vividly.
The grand palace banquet was brimming with life. Her father sat proudly on the throne, her mother cradling her in her arms.
The soft scent of her mother's perfume lulled her into a haze of drowsy comfort.
Until chaos erupted.
A streak of flame illuminated the night sky from Sunset Ridge Gate.
Screams of panic echoed as palace maids fled in terror. Her father rose, his sword gleaming in the light of the fire.
Turning to her mother, he spoke with calm determination:
"Protect Our daughter. I will return."
Her mother called out, her hand reaching for him, but only caught the edge of his robe as he disappeared into the chaos.
Seraphina clung to her mother's trembling embrace, her wide eyes watching as her father—the man who had built her world, walked into the inferno and never came back.
Years later, Seraphina laughed bitterly, her eyes glinting with unshed tears.
The palace maids around her froze, startled by the sudden sound.
They had seen her remain silent under the ridicule of Queen Freya Stormborn and the taunts of the court.
Why was she laughing now, her sadness so raw and unrestrained?
Seraphina turned, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart.
The central palace loomed behind her, but she did not look back.
"If the heavens don't want me as Crown Princess," she whispered to herself, "if they refuse to let me reclaim what is mine, then I'll take it by force. Everything they've stolen—everything they destroyed. It will all be mine again."
She walked away, her footsteps firm, her resolve unshakable. The identity she had once hidden was no longer a burden.
She was Princess Amethyst, and she would rise to reclaim her birth right.
---
The wind howled through the ruins of Azure Sky Palace.
Lysander Celestis stood alone before the crumbled walls, his expression unreadable.
Beneath his cold exterior, a shadow of sadness lingered, though he would never admit it.
The scorched earth had begun to heal, vibrant green shoots pushing through the cracks.
Ten years had passed since the fall of the previous dynasty. Most of the palace had been rebuilt, its grandeur restored.
Yet, for reasons unknown, Azure Sky Palace remained untouched, a silent testament to what had been.
Lysander's gaze swept across the cracked steps.
In his mind's eye, he could see her—small and bright, running up and down the stairs, her laughter ringing like silver bells.
Behind her trailed a flurry of anxious maids and nannies, struggling to keep up.
He remembered those days vividly. Back then, he was just a hostage, brought to the palace as a symbol of submission.
He had been beaten countless times, his lips cracked and his hands swollen from punishment.
"Move!" the eunuch had snapped at him. "Or do you want to kneel before the East Palace all day?"
But then, she had appeared. A small girl with an infectious smile, dressed in pastel silks, her hair adorned with tiny flowers.
She had rushed down the steps and taken his bruised hand in hers.
"What's your name, big brother?" she asked, her voice bright and curious. "My name is Amethyst."
Her smile had etched itself into his heart.