Five years Ago
The capital of Velmoria bloomed in spring's full glory. The cobbled streets shimmered beneath soft golden sunlight as petals from plum and saffron trees drifted in the breeze, dancing between marble columns and high arches of the royal city. The scent of fresh bread, inked parchment, and blossoming flowers mingled in the air. And yet, for Lady Elaria Vale, the world stood still the moment she stepped into the outer garden of the palace.
It was there, beneath the flowering shade of moonberry trees, that she found Her Highness.
Princess Seraphina Lyselle stood barefoot in the grass, a blade of silver steel in hand. Her practice tunic clung to her with sweat, her braid undone and swaying as she moved like flame and storm — elegant and untamed. Each slash of her sword was followed by a pause, as if she were not only cutting through air but through memory.
Elaria waited, hands clasped before her, heartbeat tight in her chest. When Seraphina finally noticed her, she didn't pause — only sheathed the blade and gave a short nod.
"Lady Vale."
Her voice still held that same measured grace, like crystal water over stone.
"Your Highness," Elaria bowed. "Forgive my intrusion."
Seraphina tilted her head. "You don't usually visit this part of the gardens."
"I needed a quiet place to speak… and to see you." Elaria hesitated, then stepped forward, her boots crushing a few white petals beneath.
Seraphina's violet eyes narrowed. "You seem burdened."
Elaria inhaled, her hands trembling. "I came to say something I should have said long ago."
The wind stirred between them.
"I love you, Your Highness."
Silence fell.
The petals stopped swirling.
Seraphina blinked once, then looked away.
"No," she said quietly. "You think you do, but you don't."
"I do. I have since the first time I saw you stand before the court and defend your brother's foolishness like it was your own crown. I saw you sacrifice, stand silent in pain, and still look at the world like it might forgive us."
Seraphina's voice was steel when she replied. "I have nothing to give you, Elaria. My heart was broken once, and I buried it."
"You don't have to give anything," Elaria whispered. "I just wanted you to know."
The princess turned away, her back stiff. "You should leave."
Elaria bowed again, lower this time, the ache hollow in her chest.
"As you wish."
As Elaria turned, Seraphina whispered, so soft she barely heard it: "Thank you."
---
That night, the palace gleamed under a thousand lanterns as nobles from across Velmoria gathered to celebrate the Festival of Dawning Stars. Silk gowns swept over ivory floors, laughter and music echoed beneath high ceilings, and the royal family stood radiant beneath the great chandelier.
Elaria stood at the edge of the ballroom, her dress of starlight silver glinting like moonlight on water. She watched Seraphina across the crowd — regal, aloof, unreachable.
But it wasn't the princess who approached her first.
"Lady Vale," a smooth voice said. She turned — and there stood Prince Kaelen Lyselle, handsome in his royal blacks and crimson crest. His smile was charming. His eyes calculating.
"Your Highness," she said carefully.
He offered a glass of sweetwine. "You've caught the eye of many tonight. But none more important than mine."
She smiled politely but her spine stiffened.
"I am not seeking attention."
"But you already have it," he replied.
From the shadows, a woman with chestnut hair and sharp eyes watched — Lady Althea Verenne — Seraphina's closest friend.
And lover.
Elaria didn't know that yet. She only felt a sense of unease. As if her world was being measured — and quietly moved, piece by piece.
By midnight, the first of many whispers had begun.
That Lady Elaria had grown close to the Prince.
That perhaps she was to be his betrothed.
Seraphina never spoke a word.
Not even as her fingers clenched the stem of her glass until it cracked.
And so, the storm began to gather.