A Heart Entwined

WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

Began

Kiara did not know when exactly her cursed life began. Perhaps it was the moment she stepped foot into the palace, when she was only six years old, clutching the hem of her best friend’s gown. She would come to hate that day and yet return to it again and again in her thoughts, as if retracing her steps could somehow change the ending.

It had been the beginning of the Spring Festival. Her best friend Aliyah, the Empress’s distant niece, had been invited to stay in the inner court. Kiara, daughter of a merchant family, had simply been allowed to tag along.

The Empress, tall and regal, greeted them with a faint smile. She took Aliyah by the hand and whisked her away, promising to show her the peacocks in the garden. Kiara had been left behind.

“Go and play with the other children,” someone told her.

So she wandered through the court until she found an open courtyard where a few children were scattered around playing. She found a paint set—a forgotten one, perhaps—and sat on her own to paint. She’d never touched a brush before, but she liked the colors.

In her excitement, she didn’t notice the tall man walking into the courtyard until her sleeve knocked over a bowl of red paint—straight onto the hem of his golden robe.

Gasps erupted. One of the palace officials stepped forward immediately.

“This girl—what family is she from? She must be punished. This robe—”

But the Emperor raised his hand calmly.

Kiara stood up, wide-eyed, but not scared. “It’s just a robe,” she said, blinking up at him. “You’re still the Emperor. Even if you wear rags, they’ll still bow to you, right?”

The man tried to stifle a chuckle, but the Emperor let out a full laugh. He crouched slightly and held out a hand to her.

“What is your name?”

“Kiara.”

“Well, Kiara, come with me.”

He took her hand, and they began walking toward the Empress’s residence. Along the way, a boy burst into the corridor, muddy and smiling.

“Father! Father! I caught a fish!” the boy announced proudly, holding up the creature in his hands.

Then he noticed the little girl beside the Emperor, and the smile dropped.

“Let go of him,” he said to Kiara sharply.

“Keanan,be nice,” the Emperor said gently.

“It’s okay, Your Majesty,” Kiara said, already letting go. “I want to go play with that boy.”

She pointed across the courtyard to a boy a little older than her, who sat alone under a tree, watching his fingers.

The Emperor nodded, and she ran off.

“Go play with your brother, Keanan.”

“I don’t want to,” Keanan muttered.

Kiara plopped down beside the other boy.

“What’s your name?”

He glanced at her sideways. “Rihan.”

“Never heard that before. What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why are you sitting here all alone?”

“Nobody wants to play with me.”

Kiara thought for a moment. “Do you want to play with me?”

Rihan hesitated, then nodded.

She smiled. “Okay.”

—

In the days that followed, Crown Prince Keanan bullied her, pulling her hair and calling her names. Rihan never joined in. Aliyah stuck to Keanan's side, always watching and smiling sweetly, never saying much.

But then the news came: Kiara’s family was dead.

Keanan didn’t bully her after that. Not once.

He turned his attention to his brother instead. Rihan bore it in silence, but Kiara didn’t. She stood up to the crown prince, time and again, always ready to step between them. Aliyah stood behind Keanan always calm, always silent.

Keanan hated that about Kiara—that she would defend Rihan But he never laid a hand on her again.

—

Five years passed.

Then came the day Keanan’s mother died.

Something changed in him. The cheerful spark disappeared. He became quieter, colder, and soon… strange things began to happen. One by one, his pets died. The last one was Kiara’s favorite—a soft, gray cat she had named Tiffany She found it one morning lifeless in the garden, its fur soaked in dew.

That day, she screamed at Rihan for the first time.

He didn’t respond. He just walked away.

She didn’t speak to him for weeks. Until one evening, before the lantern festival, when he came to her with his eyes downcast.

“I didn’t kill the cat,” he said softly.

"Momo said she saw Tiffany in your residence"

she waited for him to reply but he didn't .

She looked at him. “Then why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought maybe… if you hated me, it’d be easier when I left.”

She stared at him for a long time. “Idiot.”

They sat in silence after that, watching lanterns rise into the dark sky.

The next morning, he left the palace on his long-term mission.

Kiara hadn’t seen him again until the day the edict came for their marriage.

And today she was getting married to that boy.

---

Chapter Six

The golden light of late afternoon poured through the arched windows, painting the bridal chamber in a warm, heavenly hue. Kiara sat before a tall mirror, unmoving, as maids fluttered around her like butterflies in a garden. Layers of embroidered silk wrapped around her form—white and gold, traditional and opulent. Her hair was twisted into elaborate coils, adorned with golden pins that caught the light like fire. Still, Kiara’s eyes remained dim, staring at her reflection without recognition.

Yuri, trembling slightly, placed the final ornament in Kiara’s hair. Her fingers lingered longer than necessary. Her eyes were red-rimmed, though she tried to mask the emotion in her voice.

"Everything will be alright," she whispered, almost as if trying to convince herself.

Kiara didn’t respond. There were no words that could make sense of the knot in her chest, or the weight pressing down on her lungs.

When the doors to her court opened, and the guards came to escort her to the ceremony, Kiara’s legs moved on instinct. She passed through flower-strewn halls, with nobles bowing and petals raining down in celebration. Yet to her, it all felt like a slow march to her own execution.

On the royal dais, the Empress watched her approach, her gaze unreadable. Beside her, Aliyah smiled faintly, but the smile did not reach her eyes.

Rihan stood at the ceremonial pavilion, his posture perfect, surrounded by ministers, nobles, and foreign dignitaries. But the noise faded when his eyes found her. He noticed her steps—measured, graceful, but empty. A pang struck his chest, so unexpected it startled him. He hadn't known whether she would come. But here she was, in all her reluctant glory.

The officiant began the ritual. Rihan recited his vow first—his voice unwavering, his expression unreadable. When it was Kiara’s turn, she spoke clearly, evenly, yet her voice felt like a ghost passing through her own lips. The Emperor’s frown deepened as he watched her.

Keanan was nowhere in sight.

The final blessing was pronounced. The guests clapped politely. Then Keanan appeared.

Kiara noticed him just after a maid whispered something into the Empress’s ear. Keanan entered through the side, eyes scanning until they met hers. Their gazes locked. Her body froze.

She remembered the letter. The one that had shattered her. He’d told her she could marry the second prince.

Her grip around Rihan’s neck tightened as the first notes of the ceremonial waltz began. She laid her head gently on his shoulder and looked past him—eyes meeting Keanan’s cold, unblinking gaze. Then she smiled.

Rihan held her close. His movements were smooth, flawless, but his eyes remained fixed on hers. He noticed the way she trembled slightly, her skin pale beneath the makeup. When she swayed again, he slid an arm around her waist more firmly, steadying her.

The dance ended. The couple began the slow procession through the reception, greeting nobles and well-wishers. Kiara's vision blurred. Her breath shortened. Yuri saw it too. With a sharp nod, she called over two new maids and ordered them to escort the bride to the second prince's mansion.

Keanan followed them out, determination in his stride. But he was stopped by two of his brother’s men, who stepped in front of him silently.

“Let me through,” Keanan said coldly.

One of the men bowed. “His Highness has ordered she not be disturbed.”

Keanan clenched his fists, but said nothing more.

The room was dimly lit when Rihan entered. The ceremonial wine sat untouched. Or rather, one of the jugs was already empty.

Kiara sat on the edge of the bed, her hairpins still glimmering. Her cheeks were flushed from the wine.

“Dear husband... we have finally gotten to the part everyone had been waiting for... our wedding night!” she laughed, voice thick with alcohol.

“You’re drunk,” Keanan said flatly.

“Go to sleep.”

“No! I should pour you a drink first.”

She raised the jug and blinked. “Oops. Let me go get another one.” She tried to rise.

“Kiara Lian,” he said, voice sharp. “Lay down on that bed and go to sleep.”

She blinked at him, then saluted playfully. “Yes, Your Highness.”

She laid down, closing her eyes. A moment passed, and then they opened again.

“Come lie here,” she mumbled. “It’s our wedding night... don’t be cruel.”

Reluctantly, he lay down beside her. She started sobbing quietly, shoulders shaking. Then the sobbing stopped. Her breathing slowed.

He glanced over and saw her finally asleep.

With great care, Keanan removed each of her golden accessories, then her shoes. He covered her with a blanket and stood.

He walked to the inner chamber and closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to disturb her with his nightmares. And he wouldn't let gossip spread about this, especially if it concerned Kiara's reputation .