The King's Stain

The King's Stain ~ Prologue The heavy scent of burning incense clung to the damp prison air as Yssrina traced invisible patterns on the cold stone wall. The weight of her shackles had long since become a familiar burden, just like the shame and hatred she bore for the man who had once whispered promises of forever into her ear—Prince Damien. She had been his before she ever belonged to the King. One reckless, stolen night had cost her everything. And now, after years in exile, she was back in the clutches of the kingdom she had fled—dragged in chains before the man who had abandoned her to the wolves. Her heart twisted violently as the heavy doors creaked open. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Damien. He stepped inside, the dim torchlight flickering against the sharp angles of his face. Time had turned the boy she once knew into a hardened man. But those eyes… those storm-laden eyes that had once held desire and adoration now carried only suspicion and something darker. She let out a bitter laugh. “Come to see the monster with your own eyes, Your Majesty?” His jaw tightened. “You should be dead.” “And yet, here I stand,” she murmured, lifting her chin defiantly. There was silence between them, thick with the weight of the past. The Betrayal. The Blood. The Exile. Yssrina had run that night, hands stained with the King's blood, throat raw from her screams. He had forced her, hurt her, and in the end, she had plunged a dagger deep into his chest. And when Damien had been told she was the one who had committed the crime, he hadn’t come to her defense. He had left her to be hunted like an animal. “I loved you.” His voice was quiet, almost fragile, but the fury in his eyes made it clear—this was not a moment of tender longing. “You used me,” she spat. “And when your father learned the truth, he sought to break me. Would you have watched? Would you have let him?” He didn’t answer. That silence was enough. A slow, mocking smile curled her lips. “Does it pain you to see me alive? To know I escaped the execution you arranged for me?” His hands clenched at his sides. “I did not order your execution.” Her breath caught. “I searched for you, Yssrina,” he continued, stepping closer, his voice now thick with something raw and unfamiliar. “I never believed the council’s lies, but my power was limited then. By the time I could act, you were gone.” For the first time, she faltered. Lies? “What—” “I know the truth now,” he said, voice lower. “The King wasn’t the victim. You were.” A sharp inhale. The ground beneath her felt unsteady. Damien reached out, his fingers ghosting over her bruised wrist. “And I will set you free.” She jerked back, confusion warring with years of hardened hatred. “Why now?” she demanded. “Why not when it mattered?” “Because I was a fool,” he admitted, eyes burning into hers. “Because I was a coward.” Her chest ached with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. “There is more,” he continued. “The King’s murder was only the beginning. His death unraveled secrets buried for generations. And now, the very men who condemned you—who hunted you—are the true traitors of this kingdom.” A slow dread curled in her stomach. “The council,” she whispered. He nodded grimly. “They wanted the King dead, Yssrina. And they used you as their scapegoat.” Her pulse thundered in her ears. “And now?” she asked warily. “They fear your return. Because you know what they did. And if you live…” He trailed off, eyes dark with something unreadable. “If I live,” she murmured, “I can finish what I started.” A slow smirk tugged at Damien’s lips. And in that moment, Yssrina knew—whatever flame had once dwindled between them was now roaring into an inferno. And this time, they would burn the kingdom down together.