Azael stepped closer, looking down at me—his presence heavy, commanding, yet strangely protective.
His voice was soft but firm, the kind that didn't need to rise to command attention.
"Now," he said quietly, his gaze sharp, almost piercing through me, "why should the kingdom accept you?"
The question hit like a blow.
I froze. My pulse thundered. My fingers clenched into my palms.
"I… I don't know what to say," I whispered, my voice trembling.
Azael didn't flinch. He didn't blink. His eyes held mine, steady and unyielding.
"That is precisely the problem," he said slowly.
"You're standing in a palace built on lineage, tradition, and control. Every marriage here is strategic. Every woman who enters is measured."
He stepped slightly closer, lowering his voice, the weight of his words pressing into my chest.
"Tell me, Maya… what do you offer a kingdom that fears outsiders?"
My throat went dry. I couldn't form words.
"I… I didn't ask for a kingdom," I whispered.
"No," Azael said quietly, his eyes still fixed on me. "But you married its prince."
My stomach dropped.
"You love Zayn," he said, softer now. "Everyone sees it. But love doesn't protect you here. And it certainly won't protect him."
My heartbeat faltered.
"What do you mean?" I asked, barely audible.
Azael's jaw tightened. "The Queen Mother summoned Zayn for a reason. Because of you."
"I—because of me?" My chest tightened painfully.
He nodded. "Yes."
Silence hung heavy between us. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my racing heart.
"Whatever she's telling him now," Azael continued, "will change everything."
I felt my breath catch.
"What… what do I do?"
He lowered his voice to a whisper, almost intimate, almost too close.
"Listen to me, Maya. When the truth comes out, you'll need your strength. Every ounce of it."
I felt my chest tighten further. "My strength for… what?"
Azael's gaze softened, the first flicker of emotion I'd seen from him.
"For who you truly are."
Before I could ask another question, a deep, resonant bell rang through the palace.
Slow. Heavy. Unmistakable.
Azael's eyes widened, and his posture stiffened.
"No…" he whispered.
"What?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"That bell," he said, voice low, tense. "It only rings when the royal bloodline has been… identified."
My heart stopped.
"It's calling for you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Azael…" I whispered, breath unsteady. "What does it mean that it's calling for me?"
He didn't answer immediately.
For the first time since I met him, the prince who never showed emotion looked… shaken.
Finally, he lowered his gaze to mine.
"It means the throne has recognized something in you," he said quietly. "Something it shouldn't."
My chest tightened.
"I don't understand—"
"You will," he said. "But not here."
Before I could question him, three royal guards appeared at the end of the hall.
Their armor gleamed. Their steps synchronized. Their gazes fixed on me.
"Princess Maya of Montclair," the lead guard announced. "By order of the Royal Council, you are summoned to the Hall of Ancestry."
My heart hammered.
Azael stepped slightly in front of me—subtle, protective, instinctive.
"She is under my watch," he said, his tone suddenly sharp. "I'll escort her personally."
The guards hesitated.
"But His Highness Zayn—" one began.
"Is with the Queen Mother," Azael cut in. "And until he returns, she is my responsibility."
The guards exchanged uneasy glances, then stepped back.
Azael turned to me, his eyes intense.
"Maya… whatever happens next, don't show fear."
"I'm not afraid," I whispered.
He looked at me for a long moment—long enough to know I was lying.
But he didn't call me out.
He simply offered his arm.
"Come."
I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, and we walked.
The palace corridors felt different now—colder, heavier, aware.
Servants paused mid-step as we passed.
Guards lowered their heads but watched me with quiet curiosity.
Whispers followed us like shadows.
"She's the one…"
"The bell rang for her."
"Is it possible…?"
Each sentence tightened something in my chest.
When we reached the entrance of the Hall of Ancestry, I stopped.
The doors were massive—marble engraved with every king and queen the kingdom had ever known.
Above them, golden letters spelled:
THE BLOOD REMEMBERS.
My breath hitched.
"I… I don't belong here."
Azael faced me.
His eyes were softer than I'd ever seen them.
"Maya," he said quietly, "the throne disagrees."
My heart flipped painfully.
"And what if the Queen Mother disagrees too?" I whispered.
"She already does," he replied. "But she doesn't control the bell."
A pause.
Then, almost reluctantly, he added:
"And she doesn't control destiny."
Before I could react, the doors began to open on their own.
A cold wave of ancient air rushed out, brushing my skin like unseen hands.
Azael inhaled sharply.
"They're ready for you."
I looked up at him, my voice trembling.
"Azael… will you stay with me?"
His jaw tightened.
"I'm not allowed inside," he said. "Only those chosen by the bell may enter."
My stomach dropped.
"But—"
He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'll be right here. The moment the doors open again… I'll be the first face you see."
Something warm flickered in my chest—comfort, trust, maybe something deeper I wasn't ready to name.
I stepped through the threshold.
And the moment I crossed into the hall…
The doors slammed shut behind me with a thunderous echo.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
A voice—ancient, feminine, and everywhere—whispered:
"Maya… we have been waiting."
My blood turned to ice.
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