Tethered To The Six Princes Of Sylvarra

Chapter 10

Waking up on the softest bed, I inhaled deeply as the scent of the room wrapped around me—warm, clean, and faintly floral.

For a moment, it felt like I’d been cradled inside a dream too gentle to leave… and I almost wished I could stay there forever.

Remembering last night, surviving Rhysand’s hate, the cold, and the ache buried deep in my chest, I began to realize just how far from home I truly was.

Sunlight filtered through sheer lavender curtains, casting soft, golden patterns across the marble floor. A kind of calm settled over me. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t stay here forever; it wasn’t mine.

I blinked slowly, the silk sleeve of the white shirt Prince Eryndor had given me slipping over my wrist as I sat up.

Taking in the room in the quiet hush of dawn, I couldn’t decide which moment held more beauty: last night under the stars or this morning, wrapped in the serenity of light.

Birds danced in the brightening sky beyond the glass wall, their wings catching the light as if even they belonged more than I did.

My gaze drifted to the gilded mirror across the chamber, and I paused.

The girl staring back at me... she looked nothing like the one who’d walked into this court.

The girl staring back had tired eyes, bruised arms, and a quiet fire burning from a place only pain could reach.

“I survived last night,” I whispered to her, to myself. A single tear slid down my cheek, followed by another. I wouldn’t have believed how life could turn so violently upside down in the blink of an eye.

I let myself feel it now.

Just for a moment… I allowed the grief to settle around me, soft and heavy. I let it wrap around my shoulders like a cold blanket and soaked in the sorrow I never gave myself time to face. Not when Mother died. Not when the world broke.

Back then, I didn’t shed a tear. Everyone said I was strong. But the truth was—I had shattered more silently than anyone else in the room.

Now, the silence was broken by a knock at the door.

I wiped at my cheek quickly, startled.

Had I… slept in Eryndor’s bed? Or had he stayed in another chamber of the court? I hadn’t even thought to ask. He wasn’t here now. Just me… and this unfamiliar, aching peace.

“Come in, please.”

I adjusted my golden hair with trembling fingers, catching the way the sunlight shimmered through each strand like liquid starlight.

The door opened with a quiet sigh.

“Did you sleep well, Princess Sorenna?” Eryndor’s voice floated in gently, like wind brushing across fresh snow.

I gave a small nod, saying nothing. My eyes followed his movements carefully, quietly calculating.

My fingers curled around the edge of the dagger I’d hidden beneath the folds of the white shirt he’d given me last night. I’d kept it close because safety, for me, was no longer a promise. It was a weapon.

And trust… trust would have to be earned.

He walked closer, and I carefully pressed my fingers against the hilt of the blade beneath my shirt.

“You look much better, Sorenna,” he said, smiling with those careless, unreadable eyes.

He stopped just in front of me. His hand lifted, fingers reaching toward my hair…

In a swift motion, I shoved the blade up to his throat. The metal met his skin, and only then did I catch the faint gray undertone hidden beneath the warmth of his complexion.

He didn’t flinch. He only smiled, soft and maddening, as though he’d expected it all along.

“Soft but dangerous, aren’t you, Sorenna?”

I hated the way he spoke—gentle, calm, like I was something delicate in his hands.

Was he always this gentle? Or was it a mask carefully worn to earn my trust?

I couldn’t tell.

But I knew one thing: I’d play along. Pretend to trust him. Let him think I was soft. And then I’d find out the truth for myself.

I wasn’t going to fall into another deadly trap anymore.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, smirking, cold, and calculating.

Did he think I was a novice? That I didn’t know how power plays and politics worked?

If I weren’t the Star Bearer, no one would even glance my way. Days ago, I was a shadow tucked behind palace walls.

Now? The entire world knew my name, and they all wanted something from me. But what, exactly, I still couldn’t tell.

Eryndor’s smile softened in a way that made my gut twist. Like frost melting just enough to deceive you before the next storm.

His almost-black hair brushed against the fine collar of his royal blue attire, the fabric whispering nobility.

He tilted his head slightly, observing me as if I were a puzzle he had all the time in the world to solve.

“I don’t expect you to trust anyone easily, Sorenna,” Eryndor said softly, his voice like a gentle hand coaxing her closer. “But I need you to try…with me. All I’ve ever wanted was to keep you safe. Even when the Thornevaldians invaded your kingdom… I was on my way to you. I would’ve stopped them if I’d gotten there sooner.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “If you push me away now, after everything, you’ll only be punishing someone who was trying to save you.”

My heart screamed, Bloody lie!

I refused to believe it was the Thornevaldians who shot my father right in front of me… who reduced my kingdom to smoke and ashes.

I refused to believe the guards in those blood-red uniforms were Thornevaldians. That made no sense. Thornevaldians wear pure white; that color is claimed, unmistakable.

My kingdom’s guards wore silvery blue. But what I saw that night… it wasn’t white. It was red. Blood-red.

The color of Sylvarrian soldiers. That’s what I saw. Wasn’t it?

But Eryndor’s words echoed through my mind like a poison, threading confusion into the memories I held so tightly.

My vision blurred with tears as doubt crept in, cold and relentless.

Was I wrong? Had I been wrong all along?

My head throbbed painfully. No. No, it wasn’t them. … was he trying to prove?

Was this man trying to twist my truth into something else?

Tears spilled freely down my cheeks, but this time, they hardened me.

Even in confusion, I knew one thing for certain. I had to protect my mind from him.

He sighed calmly, too calmly, as he watched the tears stream down my face. He knew exactly what he was doing. Twisting the truth. Rewriting it with gentle words and soft eyes, bending my mind until even I began to question it.

But no. I refused. I refuse to doubt my memory.

“I know this is a lot for you to take,” he said, voice low and controlled, like he was comforting a child, not unraveling a mind. “I’ll step out. A maid will bring your dress. Everyone’s waiting for you in the grand hall, Sorenna.”

His eyes softened with practiced innocence, and then, without turning, he walked away, using his back like a shield as he left me behind, shattered.

I collapsed to the floor, my legs giving out under the weight of everything I couldn’t trust—not him, not my memories, not even myself.

My mind exploded in a storm of chaos, spinning too fast to hold onto anything real.

Knowing there was no one to trust here, I felt madness creeping at the edges of my mind.

Everything inside me splintered and shattered beneath the weight of doubt and fear. Pain pulsed through every thought, every breath, until even reality felt distant.

My mind was breaking. Everything was misery. And I…I was alone in it.