Every Prince I Marry Dies

The light was always the same. Seraphina Vex opened her eyes to pale gold dawn. For one suspended moment, she did not know which morning it was. The ache in her bones was familiar. The hollow weight in her chest was familiar. The taste of ash and regret was so familiar she had stopped flinching. She sat up slowly. Silver-blonde hair fell in tangled ropes across her shoulders. She counted the seconds until the first servant would knock. Three. Two. One. Knock. Knock. "My lady? The sun has risen. The princes have arrived." Sera closed her eyes. The voice belonged to Mira, her maid through all six timelines. Mira remembered none of them. Mira was kind. Mira was loyal. Mira would cry in six days, just like everyone else. No. Sera swung her legs over the side of the bed. The cold stone floor bit her bare feet. Only the prince will die. Mira will bring me tea. Mira will tell me it was not my fault. She does not know that it is always my fault. She dressed in silence. Deep grey silk. Mourning colours, though no one had died yet. But they would. They always did. The mirror showed a woman who looked twenty-four and ancient. Pale grey eyes. A face too sharp, too watchful. The crescent scar on her left eyebrow was the only mark of a childhood she barely remembered. Six times. She pressed her palms against the glass. Six times you have woken on this day. Six times you have smiled. Six times you have walked down that aisle. Six times you have watched them die. The first was Prince Aldric of Solaris. He laughed easily and danced badly. He told her she had beautiful eyes. On day three, he complained of a headache. On day five, he could not rise from bed. On day seven, he stopped breathing in her arms. The second was Prince Callum of Glacemor. Stern and silent. He died on day four. Magical fever turned his veins black. The third was Prince Theron of the Shattered Isles. Kind and gentle. He lasted six days. The fourth. The fifth. The sixth. Sera stopped learning their names after the third. It was easier to smile. Easier to pretend. Easier to watch the light fade from their eyes without screaming. But this time will be different. The lie tasted like copper. This time, you will refuse them all. She made the decision during the last death. Prince Roran of the Sunforge was barely twenty. Freckles across his nose. A laugh like wind chimes. He died on day two. His golden Resonance flickered and died like a candle snuffed out. In that moment, something cracked inside her. Not her heart. That had broken long ago. Something deeper whispered: Stop. Just stop. Let them live. Let them grow old while you rot alone. "Are you ready, my lady?" Mira asked from the doorway. Her round face creased with concern. A silver tray held warm bread, honey, tea. Sera had eaten this same breakfast six times before. She had never tasted it. "No." It was the first honest word she had spoken on any Day One. "But I will be." The Great Hall was a monument to everything Sera despised. White stone arches soared toward a vaulted ceiling. Sunlight streamed through stained glass. Hundreds of nobles lined the walls. Painted smiles. Greedy eyes. They had come to see the cursed Lady Vex finally marry a prince who could break the curse. They did not know no such prince existed. Sera walked down the long carpet toward the dais. Seven princes waited. Seven from every corner of Aethelgard. Each one handsome. Each one powerful. Each one doomed. She met their gazes. She did not smile. Prince Edric of Solaris was first. Tall. Blonde. Sun-kissed. He bowed and extended his hand. "Lady Vex, I have heard so much about you. I was hoping." "No." The word fell like a stone. Edric's smile faltered. Murmurs rippled through the nobles. She moved to the next. Prince Harlan of Glacemor. Pale as winter. The hard jaw of a soldier. "Lady." "No." Prince Roderick of the Shattered Isles. Barely nineteen. Nervous hands. Hopeful eyes. "Please, my lady." "No." She continued down the line. Prince Marius of Thornwick. Prince Aldous of the Sunforge. Prince Leander of the Mistdeep Isles. Each one opened his mouth. Each one was silenced. By the time she reached the end, the Great Hall was silent. Even the servants had stopped moving. The only sound was the faint hum of the Lumina Veil beyond the windows. Sera turned to face the King. King Aldric IV sat upon the Sunstone Throne. His face was barely controlled fury. Old. Silver-haired. Stooped with age. But his eyes were sharp as a hawk's. "Lady Vex." His voice cracked like a whip. "You have refused every prince. Explain yourself." Sera lifted her chin. Her heart pounded. She kept her face impassive. "I have decided I do not wish to marry." The King laughed. It was not kind. "Not wish to marry? You are the last of the Aethel line. You have a duty to produce an heir. A duty to." "My duty." Sera interrupted. Gasps echoed through the hall. "Has killed six men." The King's face went red. "That is not." "It is true." She turned to face the princes. She watched their expressions shift. Confusion. Horror. Relief. They were backing away. Good. Let them run. Let them live. "Six princes. Six marriages. Six deaths within seven days. I do not know why. I do not know if I am cursed or if I am the curse. But I will not be responsible for a seventh. I refuse to marry. I refuse to be anyone's bride. And if this kingdom requires an heir, look elsewhere. I am done." She curtsied. Shallow. Mocking. She turned to walk back down the carpet. She made it three steps before the King spoke. "Guards. Seize her." They dragged her to the East Tower. A beautiful prison. Tall windows overlooked floating gardens. Walls painted with murals of the Radiant Triad. A soft bed. Fresh linens. A tray of untouched food. She was a prisoner. But she was free. For the first time in six lifetimes, she was not engaged. Sera sank onto the window seat. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. Below, nobles streamed out of the Great Hall. Colourful gowns scattered like flower petals. The princes were gone. Fled to their kingdoms. Desperate to escape the curse that walked in human form. Good. Let them grow old. Let them forget Seraphina Vex existed. She would stay here forever if necessary. She would eat their food. Sleep in their bed. Stare out the window and watch the seasons change. She would never marry again. The thought should have brought peace. Instead, it brought tears. She pressed her palms against her eyes. She would not cry. She had not cried during any of the deaths. She would not cry now. A knock startled her. "My lady." Mira's voice trembled. "There is someone here. A prince." Sera's blood turned to ice. "No. Send him away." "He is not from the hall. He arrived this morning. The King insisted. He has been waiting in the western wing." A new prince. A seventh prince. The King had planned this. He had a replacement waiting. "Tell him to leave. I am not receiving visitors." "My lady, he will not leave. He says he has a message from the Astral Wardens. He says it is urgent. He says." Mira hesitated. "He says your father would want you to hear it." Sera's breath caught. Her father. Lord Theron Vance. Dead fifteen years. Killed when she was nine. No one mentioned him. No one spoke his name. He was a wound that had never healed. Your father would want you to hear it. "Let him in." The door swung open. Prince Darian Thorne stepped inside. He was not what she expected. Not polished. Not princely. His face was too angular. His jaw shadowed with stubble. Dark chestnut hair was an unruly mess. He wore simple grey-blue robes. The garb of an Astral Warden scholar. He looked like he had slept in them. But his eyes were remarkable. Warm amber-gold. They held a weariness that matched her own. Something ancient in his gaze. Something that had seen too much and still chosen to be kind. He bowed. Simple. Unadorned. "Lady Vex." His voice was low and smooth. A hint of amusement. "I apologize for the intrusion. I was not invited this morning. I suspect I am the last person you wish to see." Sera stared at him. Something was happening. Something she had not felt in six lifetimes. Her Resonance was singing. The fractured, steel-grey signature damaged by six failed Attunements. Faint. Barely a whisper. But there. A hum in her bones. A warmth in her chest. A sensation she had almost forgotten. "Why are you here?" Her voice came out rough. Darian's smile faded. His eyes studied her with an intensity that made her want to look away. "I have a question. One no one else seems willing to ask." "Ask it." He stepped closer. She could see shadows under his eyes. A small scar on his chin. "Six princes. Six deaths. You are the common element. So tell me: why are you still alive?" Her blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?" "The curse." His voice was quiet. "Everyone assumes it kills the man because of some flaw in him. But that does not make sense. The curse is inside you. Your blood. Your lineage. Your Resonance kills them. So why are you not dead too?" Sera opened her mouth. Closed it. "I do not know," she whispered. "Good." He smiled. Real. Not practiced. It reached his eyes. "Because neither do I. And I think that is the most interesting question in the entire realm." He held out his hand. "Let us find the answer together." She looked at his hand. His face. The door behind him. The guards watching through the small window. Six times. She thought. Six times you have trusted a prince. Six times you have lost him. But he had not come to marry her. He had come with questions. He was curious, not desperate. He was the only person in the kingdom who had asked the right question. And her Resonance was still singing. Slowly. Hesitantly. Seraphina Vex reached out and took his hand. His fingers were warm. His grip steady. When their skin touched, nothing happened. No backlash. No recoil. No flicker of the curse. Only warmth. Only the hum of her Resonance. Growing stronger. Growing clearer. Growing into something she had almost forgotten. Hope. She pulled her hand back as if burned. "You should leave." Her voice shook. "Leave this tower. Leave this kingdom. Forget you ever met me. I am poison, Prince Darian. I am death. I will not let you be the seventh."