The royal garden of Nareth was a wonder whispered about in old songs—moonflowers sculpted into silver waves, flame-vined trees blooming only beneath starlight. It was said even the gods wandered here in secret, trading truths too heavy for heaven.

  Tonight, the garden held no divinity.

  Only laughter.

  Cruel, cutting laughter that echoed across marble and petals alike.

  At the center stood Princess Kaelenna, first daughter of Queen Rhaelyra and rightful heir to the throne of Nareth. Silver robes draped her frame, threaded with obsidian that caught the starlight like fractured night. She held herself straight, regal as she had been trained to be—

  but her hands trembled, almost imperceptibly.

  Around her, her younger siblings lounged in careless comfort, amberwine glinting in crystal cups.

  "So you're truly going to marry him?" Vaeric sneered, sprawled across a marble bench. "The sick wolf prince? The ghost prince?"

  "He couldn't even keep his own throne," Selan added lightly, twirling a moonflower between delicate fingers. "Poisoned by his own maid, wasn't he? How… tragic."

  "I heard he died," Vaeric said, laughter bubbling up. "Twice. Imagine that—our noble sister wedding a corpse with a crest."

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  Their amusement rang through the garden like shattered glass.

  Kaelenna said nothing.

  She tried to do what her mother had always taught her—Duty above emotion. Dignity before defense.

  So she stood still. Silent. Composed.

  But silence did not dull the sting.

  Because she had heard the whispers too.

  Rumors carried on diplomatic winds. Tales of a fallen prince abandoned by his own wolf. A political offering rather than a partner. A name bound more to pity than power.

  She had accepted the marriage with honor.Even… hope.

  Now shame coiled quietly in her chest.

  "You don't know him," she whispered at last, her voice fragile despite every effort to steady it.

  Vaeric's laughter only grew louder.

  "Neither do you."

  And something inside her—something carefully guarded for years—finally cracked.

  She turned without another word and walked away. Not running. Never running. But each step carried a storm barely contained.

  Down silver paths.Past silent statues.Toward the inner wing of the palace where shadows gathered thickest.

  Only when she reached the lonely balcony overlooking the endless sea of stars did her strength fail.

  There, hidden from court and crown alike—

  Kaelenna cried.

  Not from fear of the man she was meant to marry.

  But from the quiet grief of belief slipping through her fingers.

  She had wanted the alliance to matter.Wanted to leave behind the cold arithmetic of thrones and find, if not love, then at least respect.A warrior beside her.An equal.A future that felt chosen rather than assigned.

  Instead, she was promised to a myth.

  And perhaps… a broken one.

  Far away, within the sacred temple of the Mystic Wolves, San Qi sat in silent meditation, spirit and breath woven into fragile balance.

  Then—

  His eyes opened.

  A whisper brushed the edge of his soul, faint as falling snow yet impossible to ignore.

  Not sound.Not sight.But feeling.