Lyssara's POV
They throw me into Celestine's bedroom.
I crash onto the floor, my hands still tingling with leftover magic. The guards slam the door and lock it from outside. Through the wood, I hear Sariel giving orders: "Prepare the ceremonial dress. We leave for the forest in one hour."
One hour. That's all I have left.
I push myself up, gasping. My whole body aches. Using that much magic drained me—healing Thomas, breaking the curse, fighting against the guards. I feel hollow, scraped out from the inside.
But at least Thomas will live. At least I saved him.
Even if I couldn't save myself.
The room spins as I stand. I grab the bedpost to steady myself, and that's when I notice something's wrong.
This isn't my attic. This is Celestine's room—the huge, beautiful bedroom she's had since Father married Lady Morganna. The room I've only been allowed in to clean or deliver things.
Why did they lock me in here instead of the cellar?
Then I see it. The window across the room is wide open. The silk curtains flutter in the dawn breeze.
And on the bed, smoothed out like someone wanted it to be found, is a piece of paper.
My hands shake as I pick it up. The handwriting is Celestine's—perfect and loopy, like everything about her.
"I'm sorry. I can't die for them. I won't. By the time you read this, I'll be far away where no one can find me. Maybe you'll hate me. Maybe you'll understand. Either way, I'm choosing to live. - C"
The paper crumples in my fist.
She left this note for Father. For Lady Morganna. For anyone who came looking. She wanted them to know she ran away on purpose, that she chose Marcus and freedom over duty and death.
But she never thought about what would happen to me.
Or maybe she did think about it, and she just didn't care.
A sob builds in my throat, but I swallow it down. Crying won't help. It never does.
I look around the room—really look this time. Celestine's closet is open, half her clothes gone. Her jewelry box sits empty on the dresser. She packed. She planned this for weeks, maybe months.
While I was sewing her death dress, she was packing bags to run away.
While I was trying to be happy for her "glorious sacrifice," she was planning to let me die in her place.
The worst part? I don't even blame her.
I don't want to die either. If I had someone like Marcus, someone who loved me enough to run away with me, maybe I'd have done the same thing.
But I don't have anyone. I never did.
Except Mirin, and now she's locked up because of me.
Footsteps pound down the hallway outside. Lots of them. Voices shouting.
"—checked the stables?"
"Empty! Three horses missing!"
"When did she leave?"
"Sometime after midnight. The night guards swear they saw nothing—"
The door to Celestine's room crashes open. Father storms in, his face purple with rage. Lady Morganna follows, crying into a handkerchief. Behind them are a dozen guards and servants, all looking panicked.
Father sees me standing there holding the note, and something dangerous flashes in his eyes.
"You knew," he snarls, crossing the room in three steps. "You knew she was running, and you didn't stop her!"
"I didn't—" I try to back away, but he grabs my arm, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "I didn't know! I was locked in the cellar, remember?"
"Liar!" He shakes me so hard my teeth rattle. "You probably helped her escape! You were always jealous of her, always trying to ruin things—"
"Jealous?" The word bursts out of me like poison I've been holding in for years. "You think I wanted this? Any of this?"
"You wanted her dead so you could take her place!" Father's spit flies in my face. "Well, congratulations. You got your wish. Now you'll walk into that forest and die like you were always meant to—"
"Davian." Lady Morganna's voice cuts through his rage. She's stopped crying. Her eyes are calculating. "We have a bigger problem."
Father turns to her, still gripping my arm. "What?"
"The High Inquisitor knows about... her." Lady Morganna won't even look at me. She says "her" like I'm something dirty. "She was caught using life magic. The whole Border saw it. The guards are already spreading the news."
The room goes dead silent.
Father's face drains of color. "No. No, that's impossible. We've been so careful—"
"Apparently not careful enough." Sariel's voice makes everyone jump. She stands in the doorway, looking satisfied. "Lord Davian, you've been hiding a life-mage in your house for ten years. That's treason against the kingdom and heresy against the natural order."
Father drops my arm like I burned him. "I didn't know! I swear, I didn't know she had that... that cursed power—"
"Another lie." Sariel steps into the room. The guards and servants scramble to get out of her way. "We have reports that you've been suppressing her magic since childhood. Keeping her hidden. Keeping her weak. All to protect your precious reputation."
"That's not—" Father looks around wildly, like he's searching for an escape. "I was protecting the kingdom! If people knew she had her mother's power, there would be panic—"
"Oh, there's panic now." Sariel smiles coldly. "The question is: what do we do about it?"
Lady Morganna straightens her spine. "Execute her. Burn her like you burned her mother. Then find another bride for the ritual—"
"There's no time for that, you fool." Sariel waves a hand dismissively. "The ritual must happen at dawn. We're already late. The Thorn King doesn't wait."
"Then what—" Father starts.
"She goes to the forest." Sariel points at me. "A life-mage is even more powerful than a regular bride. Her death will feed the forest twice as much magic. Maybe more."
My stomach drops. "You can't—"
"I can, and I will." Sariel signals the guards. "Bring the ceremonial dress. We leave immediately."
"Wait!" Lady Morganna steps forward, her voice shaking. "What about Celestine? What about my daughter?"
"Your daughter is a coward and a traitor." Sariel's words are sharp as knives. "When we find her—and we will find her—she'll be executed for abandoning her sacred duty. Until then, we have a replacement."
She looks at me, and her smile makes my skin crawl.
"A replacement who's worth so much more than your perfect, powerless daughter ever was."
Two guards grab my arms. Another brings in the white ceremonial dress—the one I spent days sewing, the one stained with my blood.
"No!" I twist and fight, but I'm too weak from using magic. "Please, you don't understand! The forest doesn't want death! My mother said there was another way—"
"Your mother was a heretic and a liar." Sariel's voice turns to ice. "And you'll follow her into the flames after you serve your purpose."
They strip off my dirty clothes and force the white dress over my head. It fits perfectly. Of course it does—I made it for someone my size, even though it was supposed to be for Celestine.
It's like I made my own death dress without knowing it.
Father stands frozen, watching them prepare me for sacrifice. He's not fighting. Not arguing. Not trying to save me.
He's just... letting it happen.
"Father." My voice cracks. "Please. I'm your daughter. Don't let them—"
"You're not my daughter." His words are quiet but final. "You're your mother's curse. You've always been her curse. And now you'll finally be useful for something."
Something inside me breaks. Not my heart—that broke a long time ago. This is something deeper. The last tiny piece of me that hoped he might love me someday just... dies.
Good. Let it die. I don't need his love anymore.
I don't need anything from him anymore.
They finish dressing me and wrap a white veil over my face. Heavy chains click around my wrists—special chains that suppress magic, so I can't fight back or escape.
"Move." Sariel pushes me toward the door.
As they drag me through the house, I see servants watching from doorways, eyes wide with fear or pity or nothing at all. I see the grand staircase where Celestine used to stand and wave at party guests. I see the door to my attic—the tiny prison where I spent ten years trying to disappear.
I'm about to disappear for real now.
Forever.
They push me outside into the dawn light. A huge crowd has gathered in the streets—hundreds of people who came to watch the ceremony. When they see me, the noise is deafening.
Some people cheer. Some people pray. Some people throw flowers like this is a celebration.
Nobody tries to save me.
Sariel raises her hands, and the crowd goes silent.
"People of the kingdom!" Her voice carries across the square. "Today we witness a sacred sacrifice! This girl will walk into the Thornwood and give her life so we may live! Honor her! Remember her! Thank her for her courage!"
Courage. Like I have a choice.
They load me into a ceremonial carriage—white and gold and covered in flowers. It looks like something from a fairytale. It feels like a coffin.
As the carriage starts moving toward the forest, I look back one last time at the house where I grew up.
Father stands on the front steps, watching me leave. Lady Morganna clutches his arm. Neither of them waves.
They look relieved.
The carriage rolls through the streets, heading for the edge of town where the Thornwood waits. The crowd follows, still cheering and praying and celebrating my death.
I close my eyes and try to breathe.
Thomas is alive because of me. I saved him. That has to count for something.
Even if no one will ever know. Even if no one will ever care.
The carriage stops. The door opens.
I open my eyes and see it: the Thornwood Forest, dark and massive and terrifying, stretching as far as I can see. The trees are twisted and dead. Thorns as thick as my arm grow everywhere.
And somewhere deep inside that forest is the Thorn King, waiting to kill me.
Sariel appears at the carriage door. "Get out. Your destiny awaits."
I don't move. "What if I refuse? What if I just sit here?"
"Then I'll burn your friend Mirin alive while you watch." Sariel's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Your choice."
My blood turns to ice. Mirin.
I get out of the carriage.
The crowd parts, creating a path to the forest edge. Sariel walks beside me, making sure I don't run.
At the boundary—marked by ancient stones covered in warning symbols—Sariel stops. "This is where I leave you. Walk straight ahead. Don't try to run. The forest won't let you escape. When you reach the altar, lie down and wait for the Thorn King. If you're lucky, it'll be quick."
She removes my chains. Without the magical suppression, power floods back into my body. For one wild second, I think about fighting, about using my magic to escape—
Then I remember Mirin locked up somewhere, waiting for me to save her by dying.
"One more thing." Sariel leans close. "Your mother screamed when we burned her. She screamed for you. Her last words were 'protect my daughter.'" Her breath is hot against my ear. "Well, your mother failed. Just like you're about to fail."
She pushes me forward. I stumble across the boundary into the Thornwood.
The moment my foot touches the forest ground, the trees come alive. Branches reach for me like grasping hands. The thorns seem to lean in, watching. The air turns cold.
Behind me, I hear the crowd start chanting: "Honor the sacrifice! Honor the bride! Honor the—"
The trees close around me, blocking out the light. The voices fade.
I'm alone in the darkness.
And somewhere ahead, the Thorn King waits.