Morning light drifted lazily through the curtains of Liora's room, touching the edges of her silver hair as she slowly pushed herself upright. Her head throbbed faintly, like she had spent the entire night sprinting rather than sleeping. Dark undertones still sat under her eyes, a reminder of the exhaustion that clung to her bones.
"What a weird dream…" she whispered, rubbing her forehead.
But even as she said it, something deep inside her disagreed. A vague heaviness. A faint echo of fear. A lingering chill under her skin.
She shook it off. Dream or not, her mother discovering her still asleep at this hour would guarantee a morning lecture that could drill through metal. And Liora was too tired to survive that.
She washed up, combed her long silver hair until it shone softly, then paused at the mirror. Her already pale skin looked paler today—like she had been drained of light.
"That's just great," she muttered. "At this rate I'll become a spooky forest spirit."
She forced the thought aside, grabbed her necklace, and rushed downstairs.
The moment she reached the bottom step—
"Morning. Or should I say afternoon?" called a voice.
She blinked. "Afternoon? Already?"
Her father chuckled from across the room. "Not surprised. Heard from the townsfolk you ran faster than most youths yesterday. Even beat a horse."
She froze, jaw dropping in betrayal.
They talked about THAT? Why? Why would they do that to me?
Her father simply shrugged and motioned her toward the dining room. The delicious smell of cooked pork and rare monster meat drifted through the air, hitting her stomach with the force of a spell. It growled—loud.
"Sit," her father said, amused. "Before your stomach starts attracting actual beasts."
She obeyed instantly.
He placed the plates down, handing her utensils politely… which she ignored, immediately digging into the food with the hunger of someone who hadn't eaten in days. Her father sighed, shaking his head like a man watching the future flash before his eyes.
"You know, eating like that won't help you get married any faster."
"I'm seventeen," she mumbled through her food. "Marriage is a future problem."
He waved her off and went to meet his hunting friends, leaving her alone with her meal… and her peace.
At least, until a voice spoke.
"Are all women like you?"
Liora froze mid-bite.
Slowly, she turned around.
Empty room. Nothing there.
"…I really need sleep." She exhaled and returned to her meal.
"I guess this explains the body weight."
The fork fell from her hand with a clatter.
"Okay. THAT was real." Heart racing, she stood up. "Who said that? Show yourself!"
Her shadow rippled.
She stepped back. Shadows didn't ripple. Shadows didn't move.
But hers did—wiggling like something alive beneath it.
Just as she prepared to leap onto the table—
A figure stepped out.
A boy.
A handsome, cold, impossible boy.
The room dimmed around him as shadows curled at his feet, drawn to his presence like loyal creatures.
"Sorry," he said quietly, and the darkness receded.
Liora's breath caught.
He lifted his chin. "I never introduced myself properly when we last met. I am Prince Kaelith. The Shadow Prince."
She stared. "Shadow… prince…"
It came out automatically, her mind trying to process the absurdity standing in her dining room.
His appearance didn't help. Black leather armor clung to him, sleek and sharp. A sword hung at his side. His hair framed his face in a way that made him look both dangerous and annoyingly perfect.
She continued staring until he snapped his fingers sharply.
"It wasn't a dream," she whispered.
"No," he replied. "It wasn't."
"Then that means…"
"Yes." His expression twisted. "Because of you, we're bound. A fate worse than death."
Her eyebrow twitched.
He inhaled, clearly ready to insult her again.
So she kicked him.
Right in the dignity.
He yelped and immediately vanished into his own shadow, dissolving like ink. Liora felt a faint pulse of his pain through the bond, a distant echo—but she didn't flinch.
"Don't talk about my weight," she warned, marching back to her seat.
Her appetite, however, was long gone.
"Stupid prince," she muttered while cleaning dishes. Even while washing, she could still feel the prince's suffering through the bond—and she smiled to herself.
Deep within the shadows, Kaelith felt the satisfaction radiating from her and immediately labeled her a danger to society.
After cleaning the house and finishing her morning chores, she sat down on the couch with crossed arms.
"Come out."
The shadows trembled again. This time they peeled away from her feet, forming a tall figure two meters away. Kaelith glared at her with more intensity than she thought possible.
"What do you want, witch?"
She ignored his retreating steps and grinned. "Answers."
The look he gave her—half fear, half annoyance—only made the grin grow.
He instantly melted back into shadow form.
"What do you want me to say?" he snapped. "A not-so-smart fa—"
He paused, cleared his throat, then corrected himself with forced calm. "Slim pig tried to be a hero but ended up cursing both herself and me? Especially me."
Her eye twitched again.
But she swallowed her comeback. "Is there no way to break it?"
"No!"
He said it too quickly. Too sharply.
The fear behind his tone lingered in the air.
So she let it drop.
She headed upstairs, him trailing behind as a reluctant shadow. By the time she reached her room and closed the door, she felt him settling somewhere near the corner like an annoyed cat refusing to leave.
For a minute, everything was quiet.
Then—
A scream exploded from her room.
A streak of shadow sprinted out of the door like it was running from divine judgment.
Liora burst out after him, kicking her own door off its hinges.
"I can sense you! Where are you hiding—YOU PERVERT!"
Her gaze shot upward, fiery and furious.
"WAIT—" Kaelith's panicked voice echoed above.
She didn't wait.
She jumped, caught his shadow form midair, and yanked him down with full force.
They crashed. Her necklace snapped, black energy leaking out in thin tendrils like smoke escaping a broken seal.
Kaelith sat up immediately, eyes wide with something close to terror. He grabbed the cracked crystal and sealed it with a swift, precise motion.
He spun toward her, drawing breath to lecture her—
But she kicked him again.
He collapsed with a strangled sound.
"You've doomed us all…" he croaked, lowering himself to the floor in dramatic misery.
Liora crossed her arms. "Maybe next time don't spy on a girl changing!"
"I WASN'T—!!"
But another wave of pain from her earlier kick silenced him.
And just like that, the bond between them pulsed again—two fates tangled together, one reluctantly regal and shadow-born, the other stubborn, silver-haired, and unapologetically chaotic.
The curse had begun.
Neither of them was ready.