Aria's POV
I grabbed the chair and swung it at the door.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" I screamed, not caring who heard. "I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!"
I was lying. I was terrified. But fear makes you do crazy things.
The singing stopped.
Silence pressed against my ears like water.
Then—laughter. Soft, amused, cruel.
"Oh, little Lightbringer," the witch's voice purred. "I'm not here to hurt you. Not yet. I just wanted to see if you'd survive the night."
"What do you want from me?" My voice cracked.
"What I want... is what's inside you. That beautiful, burning light. That power you don't even know how to use." A pause. "But I can wait. Three days isn't long. And when the time comes, you'll beg me to take it."
"The prince will stop you!"
The witch laughed harder. "That frozen boy? He can barely stop himself from falling apart. Every day, the curse eats more of his soul. Soon there'll be nothing left but an empty shell. And then..." The door handle rattled. "Then you'll be all alone."
I raised the chair higher, ready to fight.
But the handle stopped moving.
"Someone's coming," the witch hissed. "Someone strong. We'll finish this conversation soon, little one. Sleep well."
Footsteps—running, heavy, fast—echoed down the hallway.
The witch's presence vanished like smoke.
The door burst open so hard it slammed against the wall. I jumped back, chair still raised.
Prince Kael stood in the doorway, silver light crackling around his hands like lightning. His eyes swept the room, searching for threats.
When he saw me—alone, shaking, holding a chair like a weapon—something flickered across his face. Something almost like concern.
"She was here," he said. Not a question.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He stepped inside, closed the door, and pressed his hand against it. Silver light spread across the wood like frost, sealing it.
"That should hold her for tonight," he said quietly. "But tomorrow, we need a better plan."
"A better plan?" I dropped the chair, suddenly angry. "A better plan than what? Locking me in a room while witches and monsters hunt me? Maybe the better plan is letting me GO HOME!"
"You can't go home." His voice was flat. "If you leave before the three months are up, the treaty breaks. Your village loses protection. And the witch will track you there. She'll kill everyone you love just to get to you."
The fight drained out of me.
He was right. I was trapped.
"Why is this happening?" I whispered. "Why me?"
For a long moment, the prince just looked at me. Really looked at me. Not with coldness or calculation, but something else. Something tired.
"Because you're dangerous," he finally said. "To them. To their plans. A Lightbringer who knows how to use her power could destroy every dark witch in the kingdom. They want you dead before you become that threat."
"But I don't know how to use my power!"
"Then learn." He walked to the window and stared out at the darkness. "Fast. Because in three days, this palace becomes a battlefield. And if you can't fight, you won't survive."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him I was just a baker, not a warrior. But looking at his back—tense, ready, protecting me even though I was nothing to him—I realized something.
He was just as trapped as I was.
"The curse," I said softly. "Does it hurt?"
His shoulders stiffened. "Why?"
"Because you look like you're in pain. All the time."
Silence stretched between us.
Then: "It's like drowning in ice. Every day, I feel less. Remember less. Care less. Soon I won't feel anything at all. Not anger. Not fear. Not even the desire to live." He turned to face me, and for the first time, his mask slipped. "That's what the curse does. It doesn't kill you. It makes you wish you were dead."
My heart cracked.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Don't be sorry." His voice hardened again. "Be useful. Break the curse. Save yourself. Save your village. That's your job."
"How? I don't even know where to start!"
"Start by staying alive." He moved toward the door. "Mrs. Helga will bring you breakfast at dawn. Don't eat or drink anything she doesn't taste first. Don't trust anyone who offers you help. And don't leave this room unless I send for you."
"Wait—you're leaving?" Panic flared in my chest. "What if the witch comes back?"
"She won't." He touched the glowing seal on the door. "Not while this holds. It's the strongest protection magic I have."
"But what about the other thing? The voice that threatened me?"
The prince went completely still. "What voice?"
I told him. About the man's voice in the hallway. The promise to come for me tomorrow night. The way it sounded like two people speaking at once.
With each word, the prince's face got darker. Angrier.
"A Shade," he said finally, the word like poison. "A demon that feeds on fear and light. I thought we'd destroyed them all seven years ago, but..." He cursed under his breath. "They're working together. The witch and the Shade. This is worse than I thought."
"What do we do?"
"We?" He looked at me sharply. "There is no 'we.' I'll handle the Shade. You stay here, stay safe, and figure out how to break this curse before everything falls apart."
"But—"
"That's an order, Aria." His voice went cold again, distant. "Don't make me regret protecting you."
He left.
The door closed.
The silver seal glowed brighter, then faded to a soft shimmer.
And I was alone again.
I sat on the bed, pulled my knees to my chest, and finally let myself cry. Not loud, gasping sobs—just quiet tears that wouldn't stop.
I thought of Finn. Wondered if he got the medicine. Wondered if he was scared.
I thought of the village, counting on me to succeed.
I thought of the prince, drowning in ice, losing himself piece by piece.
And I thought of my mother. The woman I barely remembered. The woman who died burning from the inside out—just like the witch said.
Had she been a Lightbringer too? Had she been running from the same threats?
Did she die protecting me?
I needed answers. Needed to understand what I was. What I could do.
But who could I trust? The prince said trust no one. Mira appeared and disappeared like smoke. Mrs. Helga seemed kind but warned me to stay quiet.
I was completely alone.
Unless...
I pulled out the note from my pocket. The one that said: The prince is the key.
If the prince was the key, then maybe I needed to stop being afraid of him. Maybe I needed to get closer to him. Understand him.
Maybe saving him was the same as saving myself.
I grabbed a piece of paper from the small desk and started writing:
Dear Finn,
I met the prince today. He's colder than winter itself. Everyone says he's impossible. That I'll fail. That I should give up.
But I can't. Because you need me. The village needs me. And maybe... maybe he needs me too, even if he doesn't know it yet.
I don't know how to do this. But I have to try.
For you. For everyone.
Stay strong, little brother. I'll come home. I promise.
Love, Aria
I folded the letter and placed it on the desk. Tomorrow, I'd find a way to send it.
Tomorrow, I'd start figuring out how to break an impossible curse.
Tomorrow, I'd find a way to survive.
But tonight...
Tonight, I heard something that made my blood freeze.
Scratching.
Coming from inside the walls.
Not outside. Not from the hallway.
Inside. The. Walls.
Something was crawling through the palace walls. Getting closer. Closer.
The scratching stopped.
Right behind my headboard.
Then a voice—child-like, sing-song, completely wrong:
"Lightbringer, Lightbringer, burning so bright,
Won't you come play with us tonight?
The prince can't save you, locked up tight,
So come with us, into endless night..."
A crack appeared in the wall.
Then another.
The wallpaper started peeling back, revealing darkness underneath. Deep, impossible darkness that seemed to breathe.
And from that darkness, something reached out.
A hand.
Small. Pale. With too many fingers.
It grabbed the edge of the crack and started pulling itself through.
"Come play," the voice whispered. "Come play with the Forgotten Ones..."