Forever in shadows

Royal Awakening

Princess Lena stretched, arching her back and extending her arms above her head. The soft morning light streaming through the windows highlighted her features as she slowly sat up. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

After a quick shower, Lena walked into her expansive closet, lined with rows of designer gowns, elegant dresses, and. She ran her fingers over the fabrics, considering her options.

Today's schedule included a meeting with the council and a charity luncheon. Lena opted for a professional yet stylish ensemble: a tailored navy blue suit with a crisp white blouse and a pair of high heels.

As she dressed, Lena thoughts turned to the day's tasks. She was determined to make a positive impact, using her position to drive meaningful change.

With her outfit chosen and her hair styled, Lena felt confident and ready to face whatever the day brought.

They say a crown is made of gold. But mine has always felt like iron.

I am Princess Elena of Avena firstborn of King Aldrich. But in this kingdom, being firstborn means nothing if you’re a girl. Daughters are dressed in silk and silence, then married off like peace treaties wrapped in lace. I was never meant to rule. I was meant to obey.

I was born during the first snowfall of winter. My mother used to call me her storm child eyes like frost, spirit like fire. She died when I was nine. They said it was illness. I know better.

After that, the warmth in our palace faded. My father buried himself in the crown, and me along with it. His new queen, Milena, made sure I never forgot my place. Her son, Ronan, is the heir. I am the mistake that still breathes.

But I learned to live in the shadows. I listened when they thought I wasn’t listening. I read when they said I shouldn’t. Books hidden in the old wing of the library pages that spoke of war, rebellion, and truth. I soaked them in like stolen wine.

Now they tell me I’m to marry Prince Dorian of Carlos. A kingdom that bathed its swords in Avena blood not a generation ago. They call it peace. I call it a leash.

But I am not the girl they think I am.

And I will not go quietly.

Pale gold silk, cut low at the collarbone, tight at the waist, and heavy with jewels I didn’t ask for. I stood in front of the mirror as maids buzzed around me like flies, pinning, tugging, smoothing. Not one of them met my eyes.

“Prince Dorian arrives at dusk,” one said. “You must look radiant.”

I smiled the way I was taught quietly, politely, without joy. “Radiance comes from within,” I said, and the girl flushed, unsure if I was mocking her. I was.

The truth is, I’d never met Prince Dorian. Only heard whispers. That he was clever. Charming. Ruthless when needed. That he’d fought in the southern campaigns before he turned twenty. That he once set fire to a rebel village with the flick of his hand.

A man like that doesn’t come to Avena for love. He comes for power. For leverage. For conquest disguised as courtship.

By the time the bell rang, the throne room had been polished to gleam like a lie. My father sat on his high seat, Queen Milena beside him like a frozen flower. Ronan lounged casually on the steps, spinning a dagger between his fingers. I stood at the foot of it all, wrapped in gold, my spine straight as a blade.

Then the doors opened.

Prince Dorian of Carlos stepped inside like he already owned the room. He wore black—simple, sharp—and a wolf pin glinted at his shoulder. His hair was dark, swept back from a strong brow, his jaw lined with stubble. But it was his eyes that caught me.

Not cruel. Not soft. Calculating.

He bowed low before the king. Then he looked at me. Really looked.

“Elena,” he said, my name rolling from his mouth like a question he already knew the answer to. “It’s an honor.”

I smiled again. The perfect princess.Elena,” my father said from above me, voice booming with royal warmth. “Come greet your future.”

I took a step forward, chin high. My silk heels echoed through the hall like war drums.

“Prince Dorian.” I stopped before him and dipped into a flawless curtsy. “Welcome to Avena.”

He bowed in return, crisp and formal. “Princess Elena. The pleasure is mine.”

Liar, I thought. But his voice was velvet laced with steel, and something in his gaze made me feel watched. Not in the way noblemen usually watch me—assessing curves and coin. No, Dorian studied me like a puzzle with a missing piece. Like he was trying to find what they hadn’t told him.

“I’ve heard many things about you,” he said.

“And yet you still came,” I replied.

His lips twitched, almost a smile. “Curiosity is a dangerous habit of mine.”

“And marrying a stranger for peace?” I tilted my head. “Is that curiosity too?”

He leaned in just slightly, voice low. “No. That’s war by other means.”

A ripple of something I didn’t know what passed through me. Not fear. Not quite.Maybe recognition.

Shall we walk?” Dorian asked, offering his arm.

The eyes burned hotter now. If I refused, I’d be cold. If I accepted, they’d look for softness.

I smiled and slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow. “Of course, Your Highness. Let’s give them something to talk about.”

As we moved through the hall past lords with sharpened tongues and ladies with poisoned smiles I held my head high.

Let them watch.

I’d spent my whole life playing their game.

But now, I was learning how to win it.

But inside, I wondered if he’d come to chain me or to cut the cage open.