Fated For The Crown

Chapter Nine: The Court’s Silence. (Part 1)

The halls of Valerius felt colder without Kalen.

Not in temperature, but in presence. It had been two days since the prince rode east with the royal guard, and in that time, the palace had shifted. Where once Natalia felt his quiet gaze tracking her across the throne room, his absence left a strange hollowness. As if the very walls had leaned back, watching her from a distance, waiting to see what she’d do without his protection—without his attention.

She felt it most during the morning assemblies. Seated at the far edge of the court, beside a gilded column that caught the early sunlight, Natalia kept her hands folded tightly in her lap. The nobles barely acknowledged her now, save for the curious looks that flicked her way when they thought she wasn’t watching. Lady Viera’s gaze, however, was never subtle—sharp as a blade, constantly resting on her like a weight.

“My lady,” came a soft voice at her side.

Natalia turned slightly. It was Anya, the quiet maid assigned to assist her in the absence of formal status. “The Queen’s advisor has requested your presence in the east wing after court,” Anya murmured. “Lady Giselle said it concerns your… connection to the disturbance.”

The disturbance. That was what they were calling it.

Not the break-in. Not the attack. Just a disturbance—like a chill wind or a misstep in a ceremony. But Natalia knew what it really was. Ever since the night she’d found the crypt cracked open, something had shifted. In the air. In her dreams. And especially in her skin.

The mark on her collarbone had started to ache at night. A dull warmth that pulsed like a heartbeat. She hadn’t told anyone—not even Anya. But she had started to wonder if whatever broke the crypt had also awakened something inside her.

The court session dragged on, filled with talk of trade caravans and border security. The king spoke sparingly, his face unreadable as ever, though Natalia noticed the way his eyes would land on her now and then—calculating, distant. She looked away every time.

When the meeting finally adjourned, she walked the long hall alone, Anya trailing behind. The eastern wing of the palace was quieter, lined with high windows and stonework carvings of ancient rulers. The weight of legacy hung thick in the air. She was led to a chamber lit with soft amber light, where Lady Giselle, the queen’s most trusted scholar and spiritual advisor, stood by a table covered in scrolls.

“You’ve come,” Giselle said without looking up.

“I was told you wanted to see me.”

Giselle gestured for her to sit. “Tell me again what you saw that night.”

Natalia swallowed. “I’ve already told the guards—”

“I’m not the guards,” Giselle interrupted gently. “You’re not under suspicion, child. But something happened beneath this palace. Something old. And I need to know what you felt.”

Natalia hesitated. Then, quietly, she recounted the sensation—the light, the windless stir of air, the sound that wasn’t a sound. She left out the part about her mark burning. She wasn’t ready to share that. Not yet.

Giselle studied her for a long moment. “And since then? Dreams? Visions?”

Natalia’s eyes flickered to the floor.

“That’s what I thought,” the older woman said softly. “You should be careful. Magic tied to the crypt is not… tame. It tests its vessels. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes violently.”

“Vessels?”

But Giselle said nothing more, only returned to her scrolls.

That night, sleep didn’t come easily. Natalia stared at the carved ceiling of her chamber, listening to the wind brushing against the stone. In her mind, Kalen’s voice surfaced. Steady. Dry. I am a little amused. He had a way of grounding her without even meaning to. And now, he was miles away.

She closed her eyes—and the dream came again.

Dark corridors. Soft whispers. The scent of pine and blood.

This time, the woman’s voice was clearer. You must listen, child. They will not protect you. Not even him.

She awoke with a gasp, the mark on her chest burning like fire.

In the days that followed, the court grew colder.

Someone had started a new rumor. Whispers that Natalia had ties to the creature that broke the crypt. That she was its summoner. That she was cursed. No one said it to her face, of course. But servants flinched when she passed. A noblewoman moved her seat at a luncheon. Even the guards outside her chamber exchanged wary glances when they thought she wasn’t watching.

She kept her head high. Just as she had in the village, when they’d called her strange. But it was harder here—because part of her wondered if they were right. If there was something inside her that didn’t belong.

She spent more time in the gardens now, away from the stars. Beneath the flowering archways, she found quiet. Solace. And sometimes, she let herself imagine Kalen walking beside her again—hands clasped behind his back, brow furrowed in thought.

It surprised her, how much she missed him. Not just his presence, but the way he looked at her. Like she wasn’t just a girl dragged from the dirt. Like he saw something… more.

Once, she found herself in the eastern hall, staring at the portrait of Queen Elira—the last royal Luna who had died mysteriously after bearing the crown prince.

She felt a strange tug behind her ribs. A pulse in her bones.

“What are you hiding?” she whispered to the painted eyes.

No answer came. But the wind outside howled, sharp and sudden.

That evening, she received a note—no signature, only the seal of the royal crest.

“There is more in you than even you know. When the prince returns, it will begin. Be ready.”

Natalia read it three times before she tucked it into her cloak.

And though she didn’t understand it… her heart began to race.