Three days after the Love Hunt, the Emperor summoned Lucien at dawn.
No warning. No ceremony. Just a decree sealed in black wax:
"Present yourself at the Tower of Ember. Alone."
Everyone knew what that meant.
The Trial by Flame.
A test once used on mages suspected of treason. Ancient, cruel, and now banned — until the Emperor revived it for Lucien.
"Alone" didn't stop Elias.
He appeared just as Lucien was preparing, eyes dark with rage.
"This is punishment," Elias hissed. "It's not a test. It's a threat."
Lucien calmly laced the cuffs of his ceremonial robe — crimson and black, trimmed in phoenix feathers. Something once worn by a royal sacrifice.
"Then let them threaten me," he said. "Let them see what happens when fire meets something that refuses to burn."
Elias caught his hand. "You don't have to prove anything."
Lucien leaned in, voice soft.
"I'm not doing this for them."
---
The Tower of Ember stood at the palace's edge — abandoned, cracked, scorched by ancient magic.
Inside, runes glowed faintly across blackened stone. A circle of fire ringed the floor, waiting for Lucien.
Kael stood at the far side.
In full armor.
Expression unreadable.
Lucien stepped into the ring.
The Emperor watched from a raised platform above.
"Prince Lucien," he said coldly. "You claim to control the cursed magic within you. Show us."
Lucien looked up slowly. "And if I don't?"
"Then General Kael will put you down before you lose control."
Kael flinched — barely.
Lucien turned to face him, eyes bright.
"Would you really kill me here?"
Kael didn't answer.
Lucien smiled.
Then raised his hands — and unleashed the curse.
---
It exploded out of him like a black star collapsing.
The sigil over his heart ignited, swirling dark-red light around him. The collar glowed, magic cracking into the air like lightning.
The ring of fire surged.
And then— it stopped.
Lucien stood inside a storm of magic, perfectly still.
Hair floating. Eyes lit. A god in chains.
Kael took a step forward — sword drawn.
"Stand down," Lucien whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You're out of control."
Lucien's smile was slow. Sharp.
"Then come control me."
Kael moved — fast.
Steel clanged against magic.
Lucien caught the blade with one hand — burning his palm, refusing to scream.
Kael's sword trembled between them.
"Why are you doing this?" Kael demanded.
Lucien leaned close.
"Because I need you to remember I'm not yours to kill… or kiss."
Kael's eyes widened.
The curse flared again.
This time — not in anger.
In desire.
Kael stumbled back.
Lucien dropped to one knee, not from pain — but exhaustion.
The sigil dimmed.
The room went silent.
---
From above, the Emperor rose.
"Enough. He lives. He passes."
But the look in his eyes said: Not for long.
---
Later that night, Lucien lay in his chambers, arm bandaged, shirtless, the collar still humming faintly.
Elias sat beside him, fingers tracing the edge of the sigil with careful reverence.
"You should've died," Elias whispered. "But you didn't."
Lucien met his eyes.
"Because someone doesn't want me dead yet."
"Who?" Elias asked.
Lucien hesitated.
Then — a whisper.
"The one who sent me here."
---
In the dark, after Elias had fallen asleep beside him, Lucien dreamed.
Of being stabbed in an alley.
Of dying, gasping in the rain.
Of a voice — female, ancient, cruel:
"You want a second chance?"
And Riven said:
*"Yes. Let me be more than what they made me."
And the voice said:
''Then earn your crown''.