The palace hummed with ritual.
Incense curled through the vaulted halls like smoke from a battlefield.
Elders and artisans chanted quiet blessings in forgotten tongues. And in the highest chamber of the royal wing, the soon-to-be queen sat still as a statue of ash and fire.
Velrith stared into a tall mirror, unmoving, as the maids applied demon ink to her bare skin.
The ink was ancient alive with magic passed down by kings and queen's who ruled before her. It writhed and shimmered as it touched her flesh, sinking into her skin like blood into soil. Each symbol was carved from lineage and legacy, binding her spirit to the throne, her magic to the people.
It wasn't just paint.
It was oath.
A pact between queen and kingdom.
Every line marked a vow:
To rule.
To protect.
To burn.
A promise.
A warning.
Velrith was becoming more than a warrior. More than an heir.
She would soon be queen.
And yet…
She felt restless.
Her armor sat half-fastened on the dressing plinth black ceremonial plates etched in steel and blood-silver. Her crown, still untouched, pulsed softly on its velvet pedestal, waiting for her like a predator waits for a moment of weakness.
But her thoughts… were elsewhere.
The mirror reflected more than her face it reflected her soul.
And her soul was not here.
It was beyond the walls. Beyond the forest.
With him.
The boy.
She didn't know his name. Hadn't seen his face clearly. Hadn't even heard his voice.
But his presence echoed through her like a long-forgotten chord suddenly struck.
She had felt his power soft and staggering.
Not demonic. Not divine.
Something… in between.
Something rare.
Something hers.
"Hold still, my lady," one of the seamstresses whispered, dipping her brush into glowing crimson ink.
Velrith blinked.
Her nails had sunk into the armrest of the obsidian chair, white-knuckled. She relaxed, nodding in apology, but her jaw remained tight. Her mind churned with questions no one in the palace could answer.
She had tried to deny it.
Tried to push the memory of that boy's magic from her mind.
But it lingered like a flame in the dark.
She didn't even know what he was.
Only that he mattered.
And that made him dangerous.
"You need to unravel," Velira whispered from the back of her mind. "You felt it. We felt it. He's not just a soul. He possess the energy i haven't seen before, if you know what is best for you don't let this opportunity go to waste."
"I need to focus," Velrith muttered under her breath.
"On what?" Velira purred. "The robes? The guests? The empty throne your parents are leaving behind?"
"They leave it to me."
"They leave you with their regrets," Velira corrected. "With chains disguised as crowns."
Velrith stood abruptly, brushing the attendants away. The needles and enchanted cloth tumbled to the floor.
"My lady?" a scribe asked, startled.
"Enough," Velrith said coldly. "I'll finish the rest myself."
The room fell into a hushed silence.
And then, one by one, they bowed and left.
She was, after all, already queen in all but name.
Alone now, Velrith approached the high window.
The horizon glowed red with twilight, and the forest stirred like something breathing beneath the world.
The pull had not faded.
If anything, it had grown stronger.
The boy's presence unseen, unnamed had wormed its way into her bones. It was a warmth she hadn't known she missed. A resonance that defied magic, blood, and prophecy.
"Every queen has her obsession," Velira whispered. "You were never going to be different."
"I don't have time for obsession."
"You do. You're just afraid it will unravel you."
A knock at the door broke her trance.
Clementine stepped inside, her cloak spattered with ash and dirt, a sharp grin cutting across her face.
"You're early," Velrith said without turning.
"You're distracted," Clementine replied, strolling toward the table where the ceremonial scrolls lay unsealed.
"I found what you asked for. Kraves has secrets. Old ones. Deep ones. I'll have the full report before the moon bleeds tomorrow night."
"Good."
"And… I saw you staring toward the trees again."
Velrith said nothing.
Clementine's voice softened, teasing but honest. "So you felt it too.That… flame."
Velrith's jaw tensed.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course not."
Clementine turned her attention to the scrolls. "Should I pretend you haven't asked for the guest list five times today?"
Velrith narrowed her eyes, then crossed the chamber, retrieving a bound ledger from her desk.
"I want to know which factions are coming," she said, all business now. "Who I can trust. Who I need to watch."
Clementine raised a brow. "You're finally thinking like a queen."
Velrith opened the list, eyes scanning down the list.
High Lord Vaskor of the Bloodsworn Houses
Wields five thousand blades and no loyalty. Backs her only if she rules with cruelty. A vulture in armor.
Lady Xelra of the Hollow Knights
Priestess of blade and silence. Follows prophecy. Believes in purity of demonic bloodlines. Will test Velrith's worth—ritually or politically.
Sarai of the Ashen Concord
Master of trade, diplomat of a hundred alliances. Pragmatic and dangerous. Can be bought, but never owned.
Kraves, Beast-Knight of the Black Courts
Loyal to strength. If Velrith shows weakness, he'll look elsewhere. If she bleeds, he may drink it.
Lord Maltherun, Representative of the Necro-Houses
Old. Rotting. Brilliant. Despises youth and new rule. He may bend… or curse.
The Pale Flame Emissary (Human)
Sent from the church under guise of diplomacy. Will be watching for signs of darkness or corruption they can use.
The Hollowborn Triune
Three minor demon lords known for discord and ambition. United for now. Useful if split apart.
Arch-General Vaetrix
Commander of half the eastern legions. Loyal to her father, not her. Must be won through military strength or removed entirely.
Velrith closed the list.
Each name was a challenge.
A war waiting for its moment.
Her coronation was not a celebration it was a gauntlet.
They were not coming to kneel.
They were coming to see if she deserved it.
And all the while, somewhere beneath it all, the boy waited in the dark.
Velira's voice returned, gentle now.
"You wear the crown tomorrow, my queen. But your real test… waits in the forest."
Velrith didn't deny it.
Didn't speak.
She only looked back at the window.
And whispered:
"Soon."