The days that followed her encounter with Malcor were unsettling, to say the least. Elysia couldn't escape the feeling that she was standing at the edge of something far more dangerous than she had anticipated. Malcor's words echoed in her mind, a constant reminder of the choice she had to make. His offer wasn't something she could ignore, no matter how much she wanted to.
Her days in the palace grew increasingly suffocating. Every conversation felt like a game, every glance an unspoken challenge. Elysia had begun to notice things she hadn't before—the way courtiers would speak in hushed tones whenever she passed, the quick, nervous glances exchanged between Seraphine and the other advisors. There was a sense of distrust hanging in the air, and it was becoming clear that no one, not even the queen, could be trusted.
But what had disturbed her most was the way Dante had been acting. He was ever watchful, shadowing her every move, as though expecting something to happen at any moment. It was clear he cared for her, but Elysia couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his presence than just protection.
She had tried to confront him on it once.
"Why are you always around?" she had asked, frustration creeping into her voice. "I can't breathe with you following me everywhere."
Dante had only smiled, a touch of sadness in his eyes. "You think I'm following you because of the palace's dangers? That's part of it, yes. But you need to understand something—there's much more at play here, Elysia. Things are changing, and you're in the middle of it all."
She hadn't been able to get him to explain any further. He always danced around her questions, never giving a clear answer. And that only made her more suspicious of everyone's motives.
It was late one evening when she received a summons from Seraphine. The queen's advisor had requested her presence in the royal library, a place so old and dusty that no one had used it in years. The palace's grand library was open to all, but the royal library—hidden deep within the bowels of the palace—was a place where only those with the queen's favor could enter. Elysia's curiosity was piqued. Why had Seraphine asked for her?
She made her way to the library after dark, her footsteps echoing through the empty halls. As she entered the dimly lit room, she found Seraphine standing by a large oak table, covered in scrolls and books. The advisor looked up at her, her face a mask of unreadable expression.
"You asked for me?" Elysia said, her voice guarded.
Seraphine nodded, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I have something for you, Princess. Something you need to see."
Elysia's brows furrowed in confusion. "What is it?"
Without a word, Seraphine handed her a thick, ancient tome. The pages were old, the text barely legible, but the moment Elysia touched it, a strange energy pulsed through her fingertips. Her heart skipped a beat. This was no ordinary book. This was something ancient—something powerful.
"The queen is hiding many things from you, Elysia," Seraphine said softly, her voice almost too quiet. "But it is time for you to know the truth."
Elysia glanced at Seraphine, sensing there was more to this than just knowledge. "What truth?"
Seraphine's eyes narrowed. "You are not just any princess. You are the key to the kingdom's future. And the magic you possess... is something the queen has been trying to control for years."
The words hit Elysia like a punch to the gut. She stumbled back slightly, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible. I don't have any magic."
"You do," Seraphine said firmly. "You always have. It was dormant until the right moment. And that moment is now."
Elysia felt a cold shiver crawl up her spine. She had always felt something inside her, an untapped power she couldn't explain. But this was beyond anything she had ever imagined. Was this why the queen had been watching her so closely? Was this why Malcor had come to her with his proposition?
Before she could speak, the door creaked open behind her. She spun around, heart racing. Malcor stood in the doorway, his presence as commanding as ever. His dark eyes gleamed with an unreadable expression, his hands folded behind his back.
"I see you've made it this far," he said, his voice smooth and measured.
Elysia's pulse quickened, but she held her ground. "What is this? Why are you involved in all of this?"
Malcor's gaze flickered to Seraphine, who nodded silently, as if confirming something. "Elysia, you've been kept in the dark for far too long. The queen has been using you, just like she's used everyone else. But you have a choice now—a real choice."
Seraphine stepped forward, her expression softening, but only slightly. "You're part of something much larger than the queen's schemes. You can stand with her and maintain the kingdom's fragile peace, or you can take control and shape the future for yourself."
Elysia felt the weight of their words settle heavily in her chest. For the first time, she realized just how much she didn't know about the world around her. And for the first time, the idea of taking control—the idea of making her own destiny—felt like something she might be able to do.
But it was a dangerous path. She didn't know who to trust. She didn't know if she could trust Malcor, whose motives were as murky as the magic he wielded, or Seraphine, whose loyalty seemed to shift with every breath she took.
"I need time," Elysia said, her voice steady despite the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. "I need to think."
Malcor nodded slowly, as if he expected this response. "Take all the time you need, Princess. But know this—the longer you wait, the less time you'll have to make the right choice."
With that, he turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Elysia stood alone with Seraphine, the weight of the decision pressing down on her.