THE CURSED BLOODLINE

Chapter 3

The Price of a Promise

The ancient chapel bell rang again, and the masked stranger turned toward the sound.

Mara seized my wrist. “We must leave. Now.”

“Not until someone tells me what is happening.” I pulled away, staring at the stranger beneath his crown of black thorns. “Who are you? What do you know about my mother?”

He lifted one gloved hand. The blue flames surrounding the altar bent toward him as though bowing before their master.

“My name is forbidden in this kingdom,” he answered. “But your mother called me her brother.”

My heart stumbled.

“My mother had a brother?”

“Two, actually. One died protecting her. The other sold her to the crown.”

His masked face turned toward Mara.

“Ask your guardian which one she helped.”

Mara's expression crumpled. I had known her all my life as a woman who could face anything without trembling. Now she looked as though the walls themselves were closing around her.

“Enough,” she whispered.

The stranger laughed softly. “You have spent eighteen years hiding a princess inside a servant's dress. Surely the girl deserves to know why.”

I stepped between them. “Tell me everything.”

Mara looked at me, tears gathering in her eyes.

“I made a promise to Queen Seraphina,” she confessed. “The night your family was attacked, I agreed to hide your identity and never reveal your birthplace. In exchange, the queen promised she would spare your life.”

“You made a deal with the woman who wanted my family dead?”

“I was trying to save you!”

“From what? The truth?”

The words escaped before I could stop them. Mara flinched as if I had struck her.

For a moment, I hated her. Then I remembered the nights she had stayed beside my bed when I was ill, the meals she had sacrificed so I could eat, and the way she had held me whenever nightmares woke me screaming. My anger remained, but it tangled painfully with love.

The stranger approached the altar.

“Your mother was Queen Elara Ashbourne, rightful ruler of Eldoria. Your father was the last guardian of the ancient crown. When Seraphina's husband discovered that their own son was bound by prophecy to the Ashbourne heir, he feared losing the throne. So he ordered your family destroyed.”

“Adrian?” I whispered.

The stranger nodded.

“The prince was never meant to inherit alone. The crown requires two bloodlines to awaken its full power. Yours and his.”

My stomach twisted. The golden thread between Adrian and me suddenly made terrible sense.

“No,” I said. “I will not be used to secure his throne.”

“Then you must learn to control your magic before someone else controls it for you.”

The chapel doors slammed shut.

A gust extinguished every flame except the one above the altar. From the darkness came the scrape of metal against stone. Mara drew a small silver dagger from her sleeve, positioning herself in front of me.

“Behind me,” she ordered.

Three figures emerged from the passage, dressed in the queen's black uniforms. Their faces were hidden beneath iron masks, and each carried a sword etched with glowing runes.

“By order of Queen Seraphina,” the first declared, “the Ashbourne heir is to be taken alive.”

The masked stranger stepped forward. “You are late.”

The soldiers attacked.

The stranger raised his hand. Shadows leapt from the chapel walls, wrapping around the first soldier's sword and wrenching it away. Mara lunged at the second, her dagger flashing beneath the blue light. The third rushed straight toward me.

Fear seized my throat. I lifted my hands instinctively.

Fire burst from my palms.

The soldier flew backward into a pillar. His sword clattered across the floor, its runes hissing as the flames crawled over his armor. I stared at my fingers, horrified by the red sparks dancing between them.

“I didn't mean to!”

“Magic answers emotion,” the stranger called. “Decide what you want it to do!”

The remaining soldier seized Mara by the hair and pressed his blade to her neck. “Surrender, princess, or she dies.”

My magic flickered. Mara's eyes met mine, and beneath her fear I saw an unmistakable plea: do not sacrifice yourself.

Before I could move, another voice thundered from the passage.

“Release her!”

Adrian burst into the chapel, sword drawn, his blue royal coat torn at the shoulder. Adrian crossed the distance in a heartbeat, striking the weapon from the soldier's hand. Mara stumbled free.

Then Adrian looked at me.

“You're hurt,” he said, noticing the blood trickling from my palm.

A single drop fell onto the stone.

The altar answered with a deafening crack. Its surface split, revealing a crown of silver beneath the rock. Light surged upward, filling the chapel with images: a woman holding a baby, a king kneeling in chains, and a battlefield drowned in black snow.

The masked stranger dropped to one knee.

“The crown has chosen.”

Adrian reached for me, but I stepped away. “Don't touch me. Not until you tell me whether your family killed mine.”

Pain crossed his face. “I don't know the whole truth. But I swear I'll find it.”

Behind him, the queen's soldiers began to rise.

The crown floated above the altar, turning slowly toward Adrian. Then its silver points bent away from him and faced me.

A woman's voice filled my mind.

“Daughter, the prince will betray you.”

I froze.

Because the voice sounded exactly like my own.