When Lady Levina finally left her chambers, Aurelia remained sitting at the edge of her bed, her fingers brushing against the folds of her night robe. The conversation still echoed in her mind...Levina's warmth, her honesty, and her quiet promise that one day Valerian would regret the things he'd said.
For the first time in days, Aurelia felt something light stir inside her chest. Perhaps it was relief. Perhaps the fragile joy of finding a friend in this cold palace. She exhaled softly and leaned her head back, whispering into the empty room,
"Maybe… things will change after all."
The door creaked open a few minutes later. Gwen, her handmaid, stepped in carrying a small candle, her eyes half-drowsy.
"My lady," Gwen murmured, "you should rest. It's late."
"I was just about to," Aurelia said, offering a faint smile. "I suppose you're here to make sure I don't drown in my thoughts again?"
Gwen chuckled lightly, setting the candle by the bedside. "If I don't, who will?
"I just an interesting conversation with the lady Levina, and am glad we did". Aurelia said with the smile still on her face. "I guess we bonded tonight, and you're right Gwen, she's kind".
"Well am glad at least one member of your new family is friendly with you". Gwen said to Aurelia. "You seem peaceful my lady".
Aurelia smiled at Gwen , a genuine smile. "Yes Gwen am at peace right now. No longer feeling daunting about tomorrow's coronation".
"Well am glad my lady,Now, lie down, Your Grace, and have a little shut eye. Tomorrow is coronation day." Gwen admonished her gently.
Aurelia obeyed, settling beneath the silken covers. "You've become quite the motherly one lately."
"I've had practice," Gwen teased, drawing the blanket up to Aurelia's shoulders. "Now close those eyes of yours. Valkoron won't crumble if you rest for one night."
Aurelia laughed softly, her eyes already growing heavy. "Goodnight, Gwen."
"Goodnight, my lady," Gwen said, bowing before quietly leaving the room.
The flickering candle cast soft shadows on the walls. Aurelia's breathing slowed, her thoughts drifting toward sleep... Later when it's past midnight, something broke the stillness.
A whisper.
Faint and fragmented, like the rustle of wind through hollow halls.
Her eyes snapped open.
At first, she thought it was a dream. But then she heard it again...murmurs, low and indistinct, threading through the corridor just outside her room. Her heart began to drum. The light under her door flickered, and she saw a shadow glide past, silent but unmistakable.
Aurelia pushed back the covers, slipping her feet into her slippers. "Who's there?" she called softly, moving toward the door. No reply. Only that strange whispering...unintelligible yet rhythmic, as if words from another realm.
She opened the door.
The corridor stretched before her, dark except for the pale silver gleam of moonlight spilling through a tall window. The air was cold. Empty.
And yet… she felt eyes on her.
Her instinct screamed to close the door, to bolt it and hide beneath her sheets. But something stronger...a pull she couldn't name...urged her forward.
Quietly, she stepped into the corridor.
Each step echoed faintly, the marble cold beneath her feet. The whispers grew softer, retreating deeper into the palace. She followed, her pulse racing, until she reached the deserted north wing...where the moonlight pooled through the glass and old armor displays stood against the wall, silent sentinels of past wars.
Then something moved.
Behind her.
She turned sharply...nothing. Only a shadow shifting against the wall. Her breath came shallow. She took a step backward...
.....and the armor before her moved.
With a deafening clang, the knight's statue sprang to life, its iron gauntlet reaching for the sword beside it. The blade hissed through the air, slicing where her head had been a second before. Aurelia rolled instinctively, the hem of her robe tearing against the floor. She landed on her feet, eyes blazing.
"What in ignarion's name....?"
The creature gave no answer. Another armor clattered, its visor snapping open as if some unseen hand guided it. Then another. And another. Soon, the entire hall trembled with the sound of awakening metal.
They charged.
Aurelia dove sideways, grabbing a fallen sword from the ground. The steel felt heavy but familiar in her grasp. The first knight lunged; she parried, sparks flying as the blades clashed. Her muscles remembered the rhythm...twist, strike, pivot. The clangor of metal filled the air as she met each attack with defiant precision.
A downward strike nearly cleaved her shoulder, but she ducked and swung her sword upward, slicing through the creature's joint. The armor collapsed in a scatter of pieces, its helm rolling to her feet. Another came from behind. Aurelia spun, kicking its chestplate before driving her sword through its midsection.
The impact jolted her arm, but she didn't falter.
Her movements became fluid....grace and fury intertwined. Even without her flame, she fought like someone born to survive.
A blade grazed her cheek, drawing blood. She ignored it, stepping into the attack and slamming her elbow into the faceless helm. The knight stumbled; she finished it with a single upward slash that split the armor clean in half.
For every one she felled, two more rose.
"Damn it," she hissed, sweat glistening down her temple.
Aurelia's robe was torn, her breathing heavy, yet her eyes shone with fierce determination. She fought until the last armor fell, shattered pieces strewn across the marble like silver bones.
The hall fell silent. Only the sound of her ragged breaths remained.
She stood amid the wreckage, her sword trembling in her hand. "What… what is this?" she whispered.
Then came the voice.
A whisper like smoke...ancient, hollow, and cruel.
"Burn… or stay buried."
Aurelia froze, gripping her sword tighter. "Who said that?"
The voice drifted again, from nowhere and everywhere. "Burn… or stay buried…"
Her heart pounded. She raised her blade, scanning the shadows. "Show yourself!"
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Then, instinct stirred. She felt a presence behind her...slow, deliberate. Without turning, she spun the sword backward in one swift motion, its tip pressing coldly against a throat.
Moonlight spilled through the glass, revealing the face before her.
Gray eyes gleamed in the dark. A smirk curled on his lips.
"Well, well, well," Grand Prince Daeron murmured, his tone smooth and venomous. "What do we have here?"
Aurelia's grip tightened, her gaze hard. The blade didn't waver.
"Careful, Your Highness," she said quietly, her voice edged with steel. "I might forget you're royal, even forget you're my brothe-in-law."
Daeron chuckled, low and menacing, the moonlight painting half his face in shadow. "You've been full of surprises, Lady Aurelia. I never thought the little cursed and deformed bride had claws. I thought since ishara's curse that you lost your will to fight."
She didn't flinch. "Keep testing me, and you'll find out how deep they cut."
He leaned slightly forward against her blade, fearless. "So much fire," he whispered, eyes glinting. "Perhaps that's why the shadows wanted to test you tonight."
Her brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
He smiled....a slow, unsettling smile. "Oh, I have no idea. But I guess we will find out soon enough. I heard a noice and had an urge to come check what it was, and then I found you, busy ..... with your heroic deeds. So I decided to just stay and enjoy the show. And my... you gave me quite a surprise."
The whisper returned, faint and distant this time. "Burn… or stay buried…"
Aurelia's sword trembled slightly, but she didn't lower it. Daeron's smirk widened as he stepped back, shadows swallowing him whole.
The hall grew cold once more.
Aurelia stood alone amid the ruins, her sword gleaming under the moonlight, her breath trembling between fear and fury.
Somewhere deep within her chest, she felt a flicker of heat. A spark she thought she'd lost.