As a princess, I must rule with a cold heart—according to my mother, the queen—because being too kind is the quickest way to get stabbed in the back. She carved that lesson into me with every stern gaze and silenced tear. And yet, no matter how many times I repeat her words, a part of me still aches to lead differently. I want to believe that mercy doesn't always lead to betrayal, that love doesn't have to be a weakness. But in this palace of masks and sharpened smiles, I don't know if there's room for both my crown and my heart.
While I was lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, I began to wonder if following her advice would truly be wise. I don't want to become a tyrant—feared and hated by the very people I'm meant to protect. If ruling with an iron heart leads to that, then what kind of queen would I be? From the stories I've heard, such cruelty not only angers the people… but stirs the wrath of the gods themselves.
As I had that thought, the room began to spin, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. My limbs felt heavy, my breath shallow—then everything around me dissolved into a blinding light. When my eyes adjusted, I was no longer in my chamber. I stood in a vast, celestial hall, the sky above swirling with stars and golden clouds. Before me were the gods, towering and radiant, their eyes like burning suns—watching, judging. Among them stood a woman with familiar eyes and a regal bearing draped in ancient royal robes. I recognized her not from memory, but from blood. She was my ancestor—the first queen of our line. She looked at me with a mixture of sorrow and strength, as if she already knew the war waging within my heart.
She stepped forward, regal and glowing with ancient grace. Her presence radiated wisdom, and though I had never seen her before, I knew—this was Queen Lisa, the founder of our royal bloodline. My ancestor.
Her voice rang out, calm but unyielding, like the hush before a storm.
"You carry the weight of the crown and the fire of our blood," she said, her gaze fierce with knowing. "But your path is not yet set. To survive what comes, you must seek the Blade of Time. It will guide you—it will protect you."
She placed a hand over my heart, and a pulse of warmth surged through my chest, as if something ancient had awakened inside me.
"The blade is not just a weapon—it is memory, choice, and power. Only with it can you change what must be changed… and protect those you love."
Then her expression darkened, shadowed by something heavier—something older.
"But beware… he will come. A man cloaked in charm and power. He will try to destroy you, just as his ancestor once tried to destroy me. Their bloodline is cursed with ambition and hunger. Do not be fooled by sweet words or shared pain."
The stars behind her shimmered, then began to fall like burning embers through the sky. Her form began to fade with the golden mist.
"Find the blade, Anna. Before time runs out."
And just like that, I was back in my chamber, the vision gone. My skin was cold, my heartbeat wild. Her words echoed through me like thunder.
A cursed bloodline.A man cloaked in charm.A betrayal rooted in history.
I didn't have the answers yet… but the signs would come. I just had to be ready to see them.
I stood up from the bed and walked to the closet, where I knew I could find a robe. The morning light spilled through the windows, soft and golden, brushing against the floor. I slipped the robe over my shoulders and made my way toward the porch, where I planned to sit and listen to the birds singing their morning songs.
As I opened the door and stepped outside, the fresh scent of dew and wildflowers greeted me. The birds chirped in harmony, as if welcoming me into a sacred moment. Without even thinking, I began to hum—and then sing—a melody I didn't recognize at first. The words came unbidden, ancient and haunting, flowing through me like a river. It was as if something deep inside had awakened.
The song was not my own—it belonged to my ancestors. I could feel it in my bones, the language older than memory, the tune filled with longing, courage, and sorrow.
Just then, I heard footsteps behind me. It was Lai, my maid, coming to join me. She paused in the doorway, eyes wide, clearly recognizing the song. But she said nothing, simply stood still, letting the sound carry through the air.
From twilight birth, a jewel of flame,A light exists, though none may name.In night's sweet song, a voice will say,"Hold the Blade, and time shall sway."
The sea shines, the gods in fire,Love in truth, through pain and pyre.A gentle queen fades into night,But made a path with echoing light.
He comes again, the cursed son,In shadowed cloak, with lies undone.But heart of flame and nightingale,Shall break the chains, and lift the veil.
So sing, O child, though love seems lost,Your soul recalls the ancient cost.The blade, the key, the sky, the stone—Shall find the queen upon her throne.
As I sang, the air around me shimmered faintly. A warm light traced the edge of my skin like the sun kissing the horizon. The wind stilled. The birds hushed. Even the trees seemed to lean in.
My voice echoed softly as if the world itself remembered the song. Glowing symbols—runes—began to swirl in the air before me, forming a circle that pulsed gently with golden light.
And then it hit me.A memory—no, a vision—flashed through my mind. A woman with silver hair and golden eyes stood atop a battlefield, her hands glowing with light. She was singing this same song... and she looked just like me.
"Queen Lisa," I whispered, breath stolen from my lungs.
The runes flared once, then vanished like mist, leaving behind only a lingering warmth and a strange ache in my chest. The song ended on its own, but its echo stayed with me.
Footsteps approached—Lai, my maid, stood frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed."You sang the Song of the Sun-Daughter," she said in awe. "Only those of her bloodline can remember it…"
I stood slowly, tightening the sash of my robe around my waist as I walked to the door. The vision still pulsed faintly in my chest, like a heartbeat echoing from another lifetime. I opened the door, and the guard stepped aside respectfully.
"She's waiting in the sunroom, Princess," he said, bowing his head.
I nodded and followed the corridor, my bare feet silent against the polished stone floor. Light spilled through the tall arched windows, catching in motes of dust and dancing like stars in the air. Every step I took, I could feel the song humming under my skin—like it hadn't quite finished singing itself.
I entered the sunroom quietly.
My mother stood near the far window, her silhouette bathed in golden light. Her gown was elegant, as always—soft blue silk embroidered with threads of silver. She turned before I spoke, and I was struck, for just a moment, by how tired she looked beneath the composure. Her eyes, a mirror of mine, studied me closely.
"There you are," she said, her voice calm but distant. "You were singing."
I froze. "You heard that?"
She gave the smallest nod, her gaze sharp as glass. "That song hasn't been heard in this realm for generations."
I swallowed. "I didn't know I knew it. It just... came."
"That's because it was never meant to be taught. It is passed by blood, through memory," she said, then stepped closer. "Only the daughters of Queen Lisa could carry it forward."
I hesitated. "You never told me I was descended from her."
"Because I was trying to protect you," she said, her tone clipped with something like guilt—or fear. "From the truth. From what being her heir means."
A heavy silence stretched between us. I didn't know what answer I wanted. Only that everything in me had shifted the moment the song left my lips.
"You saw something, didn't you?" she asked gently.
I nodded. "A vision. A battle. A woman who looked like me… she was glowing."
My mother closed her eyes for a moment, as if bracing herself. "Then it's starting," she whispered. "The signs always return before the heir must rise."
I blinked. "Rise for what?"
She looked at me then—not as a daughter, but as something more.Something... ancient.Something chosen.
"To reclaim what was lost," she said. "And to stop what's coming."
I looked at her in shock, my heart pounding in my chest."What do you mean—reclaim what was lost? And what's coming?" I asked, my voice trembling despite myself.
Her expression didn't waver, but something in her eyes softened—grief, maybe, or regret.
"You were never meant to live a quiet life, Anna," she said slowly. "You carry more than a name. You carry a legacy—one buried in time, hidden for your protection."
I shook my head, taking a step back. "No. No one ever told me any of this. All this time… you kept it from me?"
"Because once the truth awakens in you, there is no turning back."
She turned away from me, walking to a small table in the corner of the sunroom. From beneath a velvet cloth, she lifted a small wooden box—weathered, with strange markings carved along the lid. My pulse quickened.
"There's something I must show you," she said. "Something that belonged to her. To Queen Lisa."
She opened the box gently, reverently. Inside lay an object wrapped in aged silk. My mother peeled it back, revealing a shard of metal—no longer than a letter opener, but humming softly with a faint blue light. Even from a distance, I could feel the air shift around it. Ancient. Powerful.
"This is a piece of it," she whispered. "Of the Blade of Time."
I stared at it, unable to breathe."The what?"
"It's not just a weapon. It's a key, a seal, and a curse all at once," she said. "Queen Lisa forged it to protect the world from something that should never return. But the blade was broken when she fell… and now the signs are reappearing. The visions. The song. You."
"Why me?" I whispered, voice raw.
She looked at me now, fully, eyes glistening."Because her blood runs in your veins. And only you can restore what was lost... before he finds the pieces first."