Chapter 10: The Throne He Left Behind

The clearing went dead silent.

Elara stared at the woman—Kael’s sister, alive, breathing, standing ten feet away like a ghost made flesh. She had his same storm-gray eyes, his same sharp jaw, but where Kael’s face held warmth, hers was carved from ice.

“Nerissa,” Kael breathed. His voice cracked on the name. “You’re—how—I buried you.”

“You buried a corpse,” Nerissa said, stepping closer. Moonlight slid across her hooded cloak. “Seraphina’s corpse. A decoy dressed in my clothes. She’s been keeping me in the northern tower for six years, feeding you grief like a leash.” Her gaze cut to Elara. “And you. The servant girl who stole my brother’s crown.”

“She didn’t steal anything,” Kael snapped, pushing to his feet. His hand found Elara’s, hauling her up beside him. “What do you want, Nerissa? Why now?”

“Because Seraphina is coming.” Nerissa’s voice dropped. “She knows about your little rebellion. She knows about Elara. And she’s bringing the Royal Guard to arrest you both for treason. I slipped out to warn you.”

Elara’s blood turned to ice. Treason. The word alone carried a death sentence.

Kael’s jaw tightened. “How long do we have?”

“Minutes. Maybe less.” Nerissa tossed him a leather satchel. “Supplies. Enough to get you to the coast. There’s a ship waiting in the harbor—Captain Rourke owes me a debt. He’ll take you across the Eastern Sea.”

Elara’s mind spun. Escape? Just like that? “And what about you?”

“I’ll hold them off.” Nerissa smiled, and it was a terrible thing. “Seraphina thinks she broke me. She’s about to learn otherwise.”

“No.” Kael stepped forward, but Nerissa held up a hand.

“You can’t save everyone, little brother. You never could.” She pressed something into his palm—a signet ring, heavy and cold. “The royal seal. It’ll get you through the border checkpoints. After that, you’re on your own.”

Torchlight flickered through the trees. Shouts echoed in the distance. The hunt had begun.

“Go,” Nerissa hissed. “Now. I’ll find you when it’s safe.”

Kael hesitated for one agonizing heartbeat. Then he grabbed Elara’s hand and ran.

They crashed through the underbrush, branches whipping Elara’s face, her lungs burning. Behind them, the shouts grew louder—men, horses, the baying of hounds. Kael knew these woods better than anyone, but the Royal Guard knew them too. They’d trained here.

“Kael—the river,” Elara gasped. “We can’t outrun horses.”

“We don’t have to.” He veered left, dragging her toward the sound of rushing water. “There’s a bridge. Old, rotted, but it’ll hold long enough for us to cross. They’ll have to dismount.”

The bridge appeared through the trees—a narrow rope-and-plank thing swaying over a black chasm of water. Elara’s stomach lurched.

“Go,” Kael ordered, shoving her forward. “One at a time.”

She stepped onto the bridge. The planks groaned. The ropes shuddered. Halfway across, she heard the first arrows.

*Thwip. Thwip.*

One buried itself in the plank behind her foot. She screamed and ran, Kael right behind her, and then they were on the other side, and Kael was cutting the ropes with a dagger she hadn’t seen him draw.

The bridge collapsed into the river. The shouts on the other side turned to curses.

Kael grabbed her hand again. “Forest ends in a mile. The harbor’s just beyond.”

They ran.

---

The ship was called *The Siren’s Wail*—a sleek black schooner that looked more suited to smuggling than passage. Captain Rourke was a wiry woman with silver-streaked hair and eyes that missed nothing.

“Nerissa’s message said two passengers,” Rourke said, eyeing Kael’s bloodstained tunic. “She didn’t say one was the prince.”

“He’s not the prince anymore,” Elara said. The words tasted strange on her tongue.

Kael flinched. She saw it—the way his shoulders tightened, the way his gaze dropped to the deck. The crown he’d worn since birth was gone. Not taken—given. For her.

“Cabin’s below,” Rourke said. “We sail in ten minutes. Stay out of sight.”

Elara pulled Kael below deck. The cabin was small—a bunk, a table, a single oil lamp swaying with the ship’s motion. She closed the door and turned to him.

He stood in the center of the room, staring at his empty hands.

“Kael.”

He didn’t look up. “I left her, Elara. My sister, alive after six years, and I ran.”

“You saved us.” She stepped closer. “You saved me.”

“At what cost?” His voice broke. “My kingdom. My birthright. My people. Seraphina will burn it all to the ground now that I’m not there to stop her.”

Elara reached for him, her fingers brushing his jaw. “Then we stop her together. From the outside.”

His eyes finally met hers. Tormented. Searching. “You don’t understand. I gave up everything for you.”

“I know.” She held his gaze. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”

He kissed her then—not like before, in the dark corridor of a castle, but desperate and fierce, a man clinging to the only solid thing in a world that had turned to sand. She kissed him back with everything she had.

Then the ship lurched. They were moving.

Kael pulled back, breath ragged. “I love you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I love you too.”

The lamp flickered. A shadow moved outside the cabin door.

Kael stiffened. “Rourke said we were the only passengers.”

The door swung open.

Seraphina stood in the frame, flanked by two guards, her smile a jagged wound. “Did you really think you could escape me?”

Elara’s heart stopped.

“Hello, little prince,” Seraphina purred. “And hello, little servant. I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

She raised her hand. In her palm sat the crown—the Crown of Ashes, forged in dragonfire, the symbol of the realm. But it was glowing now, pulsing with an unholy light.

“I don’t need him to wear it,” Seraphina said. “I just need his blood.”

And she lunged.