Here is Chapter 11 of Melt My Frozen Heart by Joy Daud—layered with jealousy, tension, power struggles, and hidden protection. The truth about Kimo's mother remains just out of reach, creating that perfect storm of mystery and anticipation.
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Chapter 11: The Silver Flame
By Joy Daud
The palace pulsed with strange tension.
Ever since the mirror cracked and the wind had screamed, everyone walked with caution—servants whispering, guards on edge. Yet no one dared speak aloud what they felt:
Something was wrong.
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Prince Kimo stood before the training yard, arms folded, watching two knights spar with iron precision. His mind, however, was far from the scene.
Oki stood nearby, chatting cheerfully with a young stable hand.
She laughed.
And Kimo's jaw clenched.
Again.
That laugh. That ease with everyone but him.
He didn't notice the soft shimmer around her feet—a faint, green-gold aura hidden beneath the dirt. A spell. One she wove quietly into the earth every time he came near.
Protection.
From what, she couldn't quite explain.
But she had felt it… the presence watching him. The danger pressing closer.
He could never know.
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Later that day, King Ryon summoned his son to the throne hall. Alone.
No court. No guards.
Just the king in his golden robes and cold, appraising stare.
"You walk like a shadow in this palace," he began sharply. "You sulk. You hide. You sully your title."
Kimo said nothing.
The king stood, stepping closer. "Start acting like a prince. Not some banished monster caged behind marble walls."
The words sliced deeper than intended.
Still, Kimo's voice remained ice. "Until I know the truth behind my mother's disappearance, don't expect me to play your perfect heir."
The king's face darkened. "You speak of treason, boy."
"And you speak of guilt."
Their eyes locked—cold against cold.
Neither blinked.
Then the doors opened softly, and the queen entered—elegant in emerald, all tears and tenderness.
"My king, forgive me… I didn't mean to interrupt."
Her voice was soft, her presence graceful.
Yet beneath her smile, her eyes flicked toward Kimo with subtle venom.
A green snake under a bed of roses.
"I only came to offer peace," she whispered, placing a hand over her chest. "This tension isn't good for the kingdom. Perhaps Kimo needs rest."
Kimo stepped back, watching her closely.
She always wore green.
Green that shimmered unnaturally under torchlight. Green that looked more like scales than silk.
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That night, war drums echoed in the distance—small tribes from the north had crossed into the kingdom's edge.
The palace roared into preparation.
Kimo stood at the gates, cloaked in black, ready to ride with the generals.
But Oki met him before he mounted.
"Please," she said, her voice tight. "Be careful."
He looked at her, something unreadable in his eyes.
"I always am."
What he didn't know was that tucked inside his saddle bag was a rune—drawn with Oki's own blood and magic, a barrier to shield him from magical ambush.
She had woven it herself… in secret.
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And far below the palace, in the chamber of mirrors, the queen whispered again to the dark pool.
"Elira's son will break soon."
The shadow behind her answered in a hiss.
> "But not before she wakes."
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To be continued…