The castle shook again.
Dust rained from the ceiling as terrified servants fled through the corridors.
"The seal is breaking!"
"Protect His Majesty!"
Panic spread like wildfire.
Seraphina exchanged a worried glance with Mira.
"Stay here," she instructed.
"But, Princess—"
"If something dangerous is beneath this castle, I need to know what it is."
Without waiting for another protest, Seraphina gathered her skirts and hurried after Lucien.
---
Deep beneath Blackthorn Castle...
Ancient stone steps spiraled into darkness.
The air grew colder with every step.
Blue flames flickered along the walls, casting eerie shadows that danced like ghosts.
By the time Seraphina reached the bottom, dozens of royal knights had already formed a defensive circle.
In the center of the chamber stood Lucien.
His black cloak billowed behind him as he faced an enormous stone gate covered in glowing silver runes.
Cracks spread across the ancient seal like spiderwebs.
A deep, thunderous growl echoed from the other side.
The sound was enough to make even the bravest knight tremble.
"What... is that?" Seraphina whispered.
Lucien didn't turn around.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I asked what it is."
For several long seconds, he remained silent.
Finally, he answered.
"The reason the world fears me."
Another violent roar shook the chamber.
The silver runes flashed wildly before one of them shattered into countless fragments.
The knights instinctively stepped back.
A black mist seeped through the crack.
Wherever it touched the floor, the stone withered into ash.
One young knight froze in terror.
"My king..."
The mist suddenly shot toward him like a living snake.
Before anyone could react, Lucien moved.
He placed himself between the knight and the darkness.
His sword burst into brilliant silver light.
The blade sliced through the black mist, forcing it back behind the gate.
The chamber fell silent.
The knight collapsed to his knees.
"T-Thank you, Your Majesty."
Lucien simply nodded.
"Return to your post."
Seraphina watched everything in stunned silence.
The man the world called cursed had just risked his life to save one of his soldiers.
That wasn't the act of a monster.
---
"The seal won't last much longer," an elderly mage said grimly.
"If it breaks completely..."
He couldn't finish the sentence.
Lucien already knew.
"So do I."
The king turned to the commander of his knights.
"Double the guards."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Allow no one into these catacombs without my permission."
"Understood."
As everyone prepared to leave, Seraphina remained where she was.
"Lucien."
He stopped.
"If you're protecting everyone... why let the world believe you're responsible for those deaths?"
A flicker of pain crossed his face.
"Because the truth would put every kingdom in danger."
Before she could press further, he walked away.
Leaving her with more questions than answers.
---
The next morning...
Preparations for the royal wedding filled the castle.
Tailors rushed through the halls with bolts of silk.
Servants polished silver decorations.
Musicians rehearsed for the ceremony.
Yet no one smiled.
It felt as though they were preparing for a funeral.
As Seraphina wandered through the palace gardens, she noticed an elderly woman tending white roses.
"You must be the future queen," the woman said with a warm smile.
Seraphina nodded.
"I am."
The gardener gently touched one of the roses.
"These flowers only bloom for those with a pure heart."
"They're beautiful."
"They haven't bloomed in years."
Seraphina looked closer.
Dozens of white roses were opening beneath the morning sun.
The old woman's smile widened.
"Perhaps hope has finally returned to this kingdom."
Before Seraphina could reply, a sharp scream echoed across the gardens.
Everyone turned toward the palace.
A servant came running, breathless and terrified.
"Your Majesty!"
Lucien appeared almost instantly.
"What happened?"
"The royal chapel..."
The servant's face turned deathly pale.
"It's covered in blood."
Silence fell.
No one had entered the chapel since dawn.
Yet when the doors were opened...
A message had been written across the marble floor in crimson letters.
IF THE WEDDING TAKES PLACE...
THE BRIDE WILL DIE.