Princess Selene Ravaryn was born under an eclipse—half light, half shadow.
The kingdom called her Solrath's Star, the girl destined to unite the fractured realms. Priests blessed her cradle. Oracles wept at her touch. Her blood, they said, was sacred.
But Selene knew better.
She was a symbol. A figurehead draped in silks and lies. She studied diplomacy, not war. Learned to smile through silence. Bowed when she wanted to scream. Every step of her life was planned, precise, political.
And lately… haunted.
She'd been having dreams. Feverish ones.
Always the same: a crimson forest. A knight in black armor. Eyes like fire, voice like thunder.
"Do you know what your ancestors did?" he would whisper.
And she'd wake, gasping, drenched in sweat.
That morning, Selene stood on the palace balcony, watching the sun rise over Solrath. Below, the city bloomed—white stone arches, gold domes, markets bursting with color.
She hated it.
Not the beauty, but the mask of it. This kingdom was a graveyard. And somewhere beneath the marble streets, she could feel the rot stirring.
"Your Highness," said her guard captain, approaching. "Your father has summoned you. Council meeting."
Of course he had. Another meaningless vote. Another illusion of peace.
She turned to follow—but froze.
The sky had darkened. Not with clouds.
With crows.
Hundreds of them, circling the highest tower. Screeching, spiraling, falling like ash.
A coldness slithered down her spine.
Something had awakened.
Kael
He watched her from the forest beyond the palace walls.
The eclipse-born girl.
The last royal.
The prophecy said her blood would restore the kingdom's light.
He would make sure it drowned it in shadow instead.
He did not feel guilt as he tracked her scent—jasmine, honey, and something older. He did not hesitate as he whispered the incantation that would silence the guards on the outer gate.
Selene Ravaryn was not a girl to him.
She was a crown.
And crowns belonged to the dead.