Chapter 2 – The Silent Flame
555 Words
The cell was still. Only the steady drip of water echoed in the distance, a sound that had become Zira’s only sense of time. She sat on the cold stone floor, hugging her knees, refusing to let fear swallow her whole.
She was still trying to make sense of where she was—or why. The dungeon felt cursed, colder than fire should ever allow. The guards called it the Icy Frost, a place meant only for the most dangerous souls. But she wasn’t dangerous. Was she?
Her back stiffened as the heavy iron door creaked open. Footsteps entered—calm, unhurried. She didn't lift her head. Not until she felt it.
Cold.
Not the kind that touched the skin. This one sank into her bones. The very air around her shifted. Icy. Silent.
She raised her head slowly, and there he was again.
The prince.
The same one from the night before—the one with eyes like frozen storms. Prince Kale.
He stepped forward, expression unreadable, his presence both haunting and beautiful. The flames in the torches dimmed near him, bowing to his aura.
"You didn’t scream," he said quietly.
Zira blinked. His voice was soft, like frost over glass.
"Should I have?" she replied, her voice raspy from silence.
He looked at her for a long moment, then tilted his head. "Most don’t last a night in here."
She didn’t answer. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she’d been terrified, that her teeth had chattered and her skin burned from the unnatural cold.
"What’s your name?" he asked.
Zira hesitated. Why did he care?
"...Zira."
The way he repeated her name—*Zira*—was like a whisper to himself, not a question. As if he already knew.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
A flicker of anger shot through her. "I don’t know. They accused me of defying a noble. I defended someone, a child. That’s all I remember."
Prince Kale’s gaze narrowed, not at her—but at something beyond her, something in thought. Then, slowly, he crouched before her, still keeping a distance.
Zira met his eyes. And for a moment, she saw it—not coldness, but pain. He hid it well.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
"Then let me go."
"I can’t."
She frowned. "Can’t, or won’t?"
He stood, ignoring the question. "This place reacts to energy. You made it through the night because the dungeon... accepted you."
Zira’s brow furrowed. "Accepted?"
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached toward her wrist, where faint bruises from the iron cuffs showed. When his fingers brushed her skin, the cold intensified—but it didn’t hurt. It soothed.
For a split second, something flickered beneath her skin—heat. Not from him. From *her*.
Kale's hand froze. His eyes darted to hers, uncertain. “Who are you really, Zira?”
She looked confused. “I told you. I’m just—”
“No. You’re not just anything.”
He stepped back, the tension between them thick as frost and fire.
“I’ll return,” he said, voice tight. “Don’t tell anyone what you felt.”
And just like that, the prince of ice vanished into the dark hallway, leaving behind a
girl with no past, no answers… and a growing flame she couldn’t explain.
- Writer
