Chapter 1: Before the Ruin
931 Words
~ Chapter 1: Before the Ruin ~
The garden smelled of moonflowers and fresh rain. Silver light draped over the cobbled paths, casting long shadows through the whispering willows that lined the palace walls. Beneath one of the larger trees, hidden between thick vines and overgrown blossoms, Yssrina sat on a soft patch of grass, her arms lazily wrapped around her knees as she listened to the distant hum of the city beyond the walls.
She loved these nights—quiet, secret, stolen from the world.
A familiar chuckle broke the silence. “You look like a dream.”
She turned her head, smiling softly as Prince Damien leaned against the tree beside her, his dark tunic blending with the night. He was breathtaking—sharp jawline, unruly midnight hair, and eyes the color of storm clouds, forever shifting between gray and blue.
“You always say that,” she teased, tilting her head.
“Because it’s always true,” he murmured, crouching down until they were face-to-face. “You should know by now—I never lie to you, Yssrina.”
Her heart fluttered at the way he said her name. She had known Damien since childhood, but somewhere along the years, their friendship had shifted into something deeper—something forbidden.
She reached out, playfully brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “And yet, I think you do lie—especially when you say you’ll behave.”
He smirked, catching her wrist and bringing it to his lips. The warmth of his mouth sent a shiver down her spine. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“Damien,” she whispered, half-scolding, half-pleading.
He sighed dramatically, releasing her hand but not moving away. “One day, we won’t have to hide,” he murmured. “One day, I’ll make you my queen.”
Her heart clenched. If only that were true.
But they both knew the reality. She was of noble blood, but not royal. And royal marriages were not for love—they were for power, for alliances, for strengthening the throne.
Still, in moments like these, it was easy to pretend.
He reached into his pocket and pulled something small from the folds of his tunic. A delicate silver chain, with a pendant carved in the shape of a crescent moon.
She gasped. “It’s beautiful.”
“For you.”
She hesitated. “Damien, I can’t—”
“You can.” He leaned closer, voice low, intimate. “Because when you wear it, I want you to remember that no matter what happens, you belong to me.”
A lump formed in her throat as he fastened the chain around her neck, his fingers lingering against her skin.
Mine.
The word echoed in her heart, filling her with something dangerous and intoxicating.
But before she could say anything, a voice shattered the peace.
“Yssrina.”
She stiffened.
At the garden’s entrance stood her father, Duke Velmire, flanked by two palace guards. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his posture spoke volumes.
Damien stood quickly, shielding her slightly. “My lord.”
The Duke’s eyes flickered between them before settling on Yssrina. “Come. Now.”
A cold dread crept into her stomach. Her father had always been strict, but this… this was different.
“Is something wrong?” she asked carefully.
He didn’t answer. He only turned and walked away, expecting her to follow.
Yssrina glanced at Damien, confusion and unease twisting inside her. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Go. I’ll wait for you.”
She nodded, swallowing her nerves as she hurried after her father, her heart pounding louder with each step.
****
The moment she entered their estate’s grand hall, she knew something was terribly wrong.
Her mother sat stiffly on the edge of a chair, her face pale. Servants stood at a distance, heads lowered, avoiding eye contact. The air felt thick, suffocating.
Her father faced her, his expression hard.
“You are to be wed.”
The words crashed into her like a tidal wave.
She blinked. “What?”
“The King has chosen you to be his bride.”
Silence.
A roaring, deafening silence.
Yssrina’s breath caught in her throat. She felt like the world had just tilted on its axis.
“The King?” she whispered, disbelief lacing every syllable.
“The announcement will be made tomorrow,” her father continued, as if he hadn’t just shattered her world. “You will marry him in three days.”
No.
No, no, no.
She stumbled back. “This… this is a joke.”
“It is an honor,” her mother cut in, voice trembling but firm. “You will be Queen, Yssrina.”
Queen.
But not Damien’s.
Not his.
Tears burned behind her eyes. “Father, please.”
He exhaled, his gaze softening for the first time. “I know, daughter. I know this is sudden.”
“You know?” Her voice cracked. “Then why would you—”
“The King made his decision,” he interrupted. “Refusing him is not an option.”
Her blood turned to ice.
This wasn’t a request.
This wasn’t something she could fight.
This was a sentence.
And just like that, her stolen nights with Damien, the whispered promises, the quiet laughter under the moonlight—everything—was ripped away.
Three days.
She had three days before she became a prisoner in a golden cage.
And she had no idea how to tell Damien.
- Writer
