Early the next morning, Aurelia sat once more in front of the tall, arched mirror, a routine she got used to over time.
Its once-majestic gilt frame now dulled, flaking like golden leaves withered by time. Cracks snaked along the edges, just as they did in the walls of her tower room, and just as they had formed....bit by bit...within her.
Morning sunlight filtered through the narrow window panes, streaking across the floor in soft ribbons of amber and gold. But it could not chase the cold from this part of Emberhold.
This was the forgotten corner of the palace, where the flames of the forge no longer reached. Here, the fire that birthed her family's legacy flickered out long ago.
Emberhold itself was a marvel....rising out of molten rock and obsidian, a castle sculpted by flame and fury. At dawn, it gleamed like a weapon freshly drawn: red, gold, and seething.
But Aurelia's tower...wedged into the furthest edge of the west wing...was where warmth went to die.
She tugged the comb through her brittle hair. It no longer gleamed like her mother's or brother.
Her skin, once smooth and soft, was now uneven, pocked with the remnants of an ancient curse.
One eye drooped slightly. The other remained wide, luminous..far too expressive for the mask of horror that made up the rest of her face. Lips cracked. Her nose had twisted slightly to one side. No glamour could hide it. No healer could reverse it, her father tried
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in, Gwen," she said, her voice low and steady.
The door creaked open to reveal Gwen, her ever-faithful maid, balancing a tray piled with a steaming bowl of porridge, a thick slice of bread, and figs soaked in honey. Her copper curls danced beneath her bonnet, and her cheeks were pink from the morning chill.
"You should eat before it goes cold," Gwen urged, setting the tray near the narrow window where what little warmth the sun offered could reach.
Aurelia offered a faint smile. "You always bring the sun with you."
"Don't say that," Gwen said bashfully, but her grin widened. "I'll stay a moment, but only a moment. The steward caught me bringing your tray yesterday and muttered something about 'spoiling the waste.'"
"Let him mutter. At least you have a spine. That's more than I can say for most of Emberhold."
They shared a soft laugh. Gwen sat beside her, perching carefully on the edge of a carved stone stool. She watched Aurelia pick at her food in silence for a moment before the princess finally asked:
"Have you heard anything from the kitchens? About Father?" Her voice trembled slightly. "Has he… spoken about me?"
Aurelia wasn't listening. She remembered the whispers she'd heard herself, barely an hour earlier. She had tried to slip past the palace guards, wrapped in a hooded cloak, to steal away to the forest edge before dawn. There, in the quiet arms of the woods, beneath the ancient pines, she could breathe. There, no eyes turned away from her. No mirrors whispered judgment.
It's moments like that, that she feels free and doesn't have to hide her cursed face.
And on her way back, she heard the maids whispering about guests from the North, but she couldn't hear clearly what it was about.
Gwen hesitated. "There's been talk. Envoys from the North arrived late last night. The kitchens were turned upside down preparing for them."
Aurelia froze, the spoon halfway to her lips.
Northern envoys. Her thoughts immediately spiraled toward one possible truth. The engagement. Her arranged betrothal to Lord Neris of House Winterbourne. A match forged long ago when she still bore the face of a daughter fit for a throne.
"But surely they came to discuss borders," Gwen added quickly. "Trade, perhaps. Not..."
Before Gwen could continue, another knock rattled the door. This one loud, impatient, and dripping with venom.
Aurelia's spine straightened.
Without waiting for permission, the door swung open, and Calista Flameborne strode in like she owned not just the room, but the air itself.
Clad in red silk that matched her crimson-painted lips, Calista looked every inch the daughter of fire. Her auburn hair was styled in perfect cascading curls, pinned back with fire opals. She didn't so much as glance at Gwen. Her lips curved into a mocking smile.
"Sister," she drawled, sweeping the room with a look of faint disgust. "Still hiding in this dusty tomb like some tragic little ghost? Honestly, it's almost poetic."
Aurelia didn't rise. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Calista?"
"Oh, it's not pleasure. It's duty," Calista replied, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve. "Father received a letter last night. From House Winterbourne."
Aurelia's hands stiffened around the edges of her bowl.
Calista's smile widened. "You remember Lord Neris, don't you? The man once betrothed to you?"
"Once?" Aurelia repeated, the word a sharp whisper.
"Yes. Once. Seems word of your… appearance has reached the mountains. Lord Neris no longer desires a cursed bride. Imagine that. The engagement has been formally dissolved."
Gwen stood sharply. "You're lying."
Calista turned, eyes flashing. "Ask the steward. Ask the guards. Ask Father....if you can get him to talk to you."
Aurelia sat frozen, porcelain pale.
"Why are you here, Calista? To gloat?"
Calista tilted her head. "You deserve to know what awaits you, sister.
The world sees what I see...an embarrassment. A blemish on House Flameborne. You don't belong in Emberhold. Father hides you because you're shameful."
"Thats enough," Gwen snapped.
Calista tilted her head with mock pity. "Perhaps they'll send you to a convent. Or better yet, marry you to that blind hermit who lives in the Dusk Isles. I hear he's fond of ugly birds."
Aurelia stood slowly, her voice ice-cold. "Get out."
Calista blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You've had your moment. Leave."
The smirk faded from Calista's face. "I'll enjoy wine and music while you rot in silence, sister. Enjoy your dusty little tower."
She walked out like a flame extinguishing itself, leaving only the stench of perfume and cruelty behind.
Silence returned, heavy and sharp.
Aurelia sank onto her stool again, her face unreadable.
Don't listen to her," Gwen murmured. "She's vile and cruel. You… you're more than what she says."
Aurelia looked at her reflection....one eye bright, the other dulled by time and shame. Her lips trembled.
"Then why do I feel like I'm becoming exactly what she sees?"
"You're not," Gwen said fiercely. "You're strong. You're kind. She fears that."
"Don't let her words get to you my lady."
Aurelia blinked away tears. "Do you think it's true? What she said? About the letter?"
Gwen hesitated. "Even if it is, it doesn't define you."
"I need to know."
"Then I'll find out," Gwen offered gently. "Let me ask around. Discreetly."
Aurelia gave a slow nod. "Thank you, Gwen. Be careful."
As the maid left, Aurelia turned again to the mirror.
The reflection hadn't changed.
And the girl staring back felt alone and scared and she broke down in tears.