The Fourth Bride’s Warning
994 Words
Chapter 5: The Fourth Bride’s Warning
Elora did not sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the ghostly woman standing among the roses, her pale face filled with terror as she whispered those final words.
The one who started it.
The words echoed endlessly through her mind.
Who had started the curse?
And why?
The questions followed her throughout the night.
By dawn, exhaustion weighed heavily on her body, but her mind remained painfully alert.
She stood near the window of her chamber, watching the sunrise spill golden light across the kingdom.
The beauty felt deceptive.
Too peaceful.
Too ordinary.
As if the world outside had no idea that something ancient and terrible lurked within the palace walls.
A knock sounded at her door.
Before she could answer, it opened.
Kael entered.
His dark coat was slightly damp from the morning mist, and shadows lingered beneath his eyes.
He looked as though he hadn’t slept either.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Elora folded her arms.
“You look terrible.”
To her surprise, the corner of Kael’s mouth twitched.
“And good morning to you as well.”
The brief exchange felt strangely normal.
Almost comforting.
Almost.
His expression soon became serious again.
“We need to talk.”
Elora immediately knew this wasn’t about the ghost.
Something else had happened.
“What is it?”
Kael stepped closer.
“The archives.”
She frowned.
“The palace archives?”
He nodded.
“Last night, after I left the garden, I ordered a search of the oldest records.”
“And?”
His face darkened.
“We found something.”
That was all he needed to say.
Within minutes, they were descending into the lower levels of the palace.
The archives occupied an enormous underground chamber carved directly into the mountain beneath the castle.
Towering shelves stretched in every direction.
Thousands of books.
Centuries of records.
Secrets buried beneath dust and time.
An elderly archivist waited for them.
His hands shook as he presented a large leather-bound journal.
“This was hidden behind a false wall,” the old man explained.
“It shouldn’t have existed.”
Kael took the book.
The cover was cracked with age.
No title.
No markings.
Nothing.
Elora watched as he opened it.
The first page contained only one sentence.
The Curse Must Never Be Broken.
A chill swept through the room.
She leaned closer.
The handwriting was elegant.
Deliberate.
Someone had taken great care writing those words.
“What is this?” she asked.
The archivist swallowed nervously.
“We believe it belonged to the first queen.”
Silence fell.
The first queen.
Not Kael’s late wife.
The first queen in the kingdom’s history.
Elora exchanged a glance with Kael.
Something about this felt important.
Dangerously important.
They continued reading.
Page after page revealed fragments of a story long forgotten.
A powerful ruler.
A mysterious woman.
A forbidden ritual.
Ancient bargains.
And then, several pages later, they found a name.
Lady Morwen.
The woman described within the journal was unlike anyone Elora had ever heard of.
Beautiful.
Intelligent.
Beloved by the people.
But feared by the nobility.
According to the journal, Morwen had possessed unusual abilities.
Abilities the kingdom had eventually turned against her.
“They accused her of witchcraft,” Elora murmured.
The archivist nodded.
“The old kingdom feared what it could not control.”
She continued reading.
Her heart sank.
The story ended with betrayal.
Morwen had been condemned.
Executed.
Abandoned by everyone she trusted.
Even the king.
Especially the king.
The final entry made Elora’s blood run cold.
She promised that every bride who followed would inherit the sorrow they created.
The room became silent.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Kael stared at the page.
His face had gone pale.
“This is impossible.”
But Elora wasn’t so sure.
The ghost’s warning returned to her.
The one who started it.
Perhaps the curse wasn’t a monster.
Perhaps it was revenge.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed somewhere above them.
Everyone jumped.
Another crash followed.
Then shouting.
Kael’s head snapped toward the staircase.
“Stay here.”
Elora immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
For a brief moment, they stared at each other.
Then Kael sighed.
“You are incredibly difficult.”
A smile touched Elora’s lips.
“So I’ve been told.”
Minutes later, they emerged into chaos.
Servants were running through the corridors.
Guards shouted orders.
Panic spread throughout the palace.
“What happened?” Kael demanded.
A captain hurried toward him.
“Your Majesty, the northern gallery.”
The man’s face was white.
“Every portrait has been destroyed.”
The group rushed there immediately.
Elora stopped dead upon entering.
The gallery walls were lined with portraits of every royal bride.
Or at least they had been.
Now each painting had been slashed.
Torn apart.
Ruined.
Except one.
A single portrait remained untouched.
The portrait of Elora.
Her breath caught.
She slowly approached it.
The painting had only been completed two days ago.
Yet somehow it looked different.
The painted version of herself seemed almost alive.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then she noticed something hidden near the bottom corner.
Words.
Words that had not been there before.
Written in dark red ink.
Or perhaps blood.
She stepped closer.
Her heart pounded.
The message contained only four words.
YOU ARE NOT THE LAST.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips.
Kael moved beside her.
His expression darkened the moment he read it.
The room grew colder.
The air heavier.
As if something unseen had entered the gallery.
Watching them.
Listening.
Waiting.
Then every candle in the room extinguished simultaneously.
Darkness swallowed everything.
A woman’s laughter echoed through the gallery.
Low.
Ancient.
Triumphant.
And for the first time since arriving at the palace, Elora felt genuine fear.
Because she realized something horrifying.
The curse was no longer hiding.
It wanted to be found.
- Writer
