The air in the training hall shimmered faintly, thick with magic that pulsed just beneath the surface—tense, unrefined, waiting to explode. Prince Vraevyn stood at the center, arms crossed, his crimson eyes locked on Serenya with a mixture of suspicion and reluctant curiosity.
Serenya moved with grace as she stepped closer, her voice smooth. "Magic doesn't respond to brute strength, Your Highness. It listens to will. Emotion."
Vraevyn snorted, turning his back to her. "Emotion?" he echoed. "I was born with a curse and raised by a father who sees affection as weakness. My emotions were locked away long before you ever thought of stepping into this castle."
She stepped in front of him, not allowing him to look away. "Then unlock them."
"I don't feel anything," he said coldly. "Just rage. That I know."
"Good," Serenya whispered, stepping closer until their breaths nearly touched. "Rage is an emotion. Let's start there."
His jaw tightened, but she saw it—the flicker of surprise in his gaze. She held up her hand, conjuring a small orb of light, just like before. "Magic flows through emotion. But it's not just fire and fury—it's desire, pain, longing, hope... The more you know yourself, the more you own your magic."
She moved around him slowly, deliberately, her voice dropping to a sultry hum. "Close your eyes."
He hesitated.
"Trust me," she murmured, near his ear.
Reluctantly, he obeyed. His lashes lowered. Serenya placed a hand on his chest—not forcefully, just enough for him to feel the warmth of her touch through the dark fabric.
"Feel what you've buried," she whispered. "Let it rise, not to destroy you... but to guide you."
There was silence. Then a flicker of energy shimmered around his hands, unstable but real.
"Good," she said. "Now focus. Shape it."
He tried. The energy sparked, then sizzled out.
Vraevyn cursed under his breath. "This is ridiculous."
"No," Serenya said, circling back in front of him. "This is you. Broken. Powerful. Unused to being seen."
She reached out, fingers brushing his cheek with featherlight gentleness. His eyes snapped open, and their gazes locked—intense, breathless.
"Let the darkness answer you," she said. "Not control you."
The orb flickered again near his palm—smaller, brighter.
And then, he spoke lowly. "You're not what I expected."
"Neither are you," she replied.
He held her gaze, heat rising between them.
Then—*bang.* The doors creaked.
A guard's voice echoed from outside. "My prince, there's a message from the east border.
Vraevyn didn't move. His magic faded. But his eyes were still on Serenya, unreadable.
She stepped back slowly, smoothing her robes.
"Our first lesson is over," she said, her voice steady.
But inside… something had already begun.
She turned to leave, but before she could take a full step, Vraevyn's voice echoed low behind her.
*"I want to learn about forbidden magic."*
She paused, a small smirk curling on her lips—he'd taken the bait.
Without turning around, she replied, *"Then be ready… because what we'll touch tomorrow could break you before it ever makes you."*
Then she walked away, leaving the prince staring after her—his interest no longer mild, but burning.
*Class was over… but something had awakened.*