Ashes of the crown

POV: Prince Ruvan ❄️⚡

The Citadel's frost-wrapped corridors were quiet—too quiet.

Prince Ruvan walked with purpose, each step sharp and cold against the enchanted stone. The walls pulsed faintly with his aura, responding to the storm brewing under his skin. The palace guards bowed as he passed, but their gazes flicked away too quickly. They knew. Or worse, they suspected.

Something had happened.

And it involved Lira.

He entered the High Command Hall. His breath fogged the air before him.

"Where is she?" he asked, voice low and controlled.

No one answered.

Ruvan turned slowly toward the closest guard, ice threading through his veins. "I won't ask again."

The captain stiffened. "Your Highness... Princess Lira slipped past the northern ward lines three hours ago. She used personal travel magic, unsanctioned. We attempted to follow—"

"You lost her," Ruvan said flatly.

"We didn't know where she was headed."

"You did nothing."

"We—"

The guard didn't finish. A wave of cold magic rippled through the chamber, cracking a torch bracket on the wall.

"She's with her," Ruvan muttered. "She went to find Ariya."

The captain looked up, startled. "You're certain?"

"I felt it."

Because the moment Lira's magic crossed the boundary into the Veilmark Woods, the mark on Ruvan's chest had burned cold. A strange, echoing pulse had followed—one that always connected to the girl he couldn't stop thinking about.

Ariya.

She was nearby.

She'd seen his sister.

And she'd probably spoken with her.

Ruvan paced the frost-forged floor of his war room. His shadows curled tightly against the glass as he summoned the crystal-threaded mirror hidden behind his personal seal. One word, and it shimmered to life—linked to Ariya's mark.

He shouldn't look.Shouldn't use the connection.Not yet. Not like this.

But rage twisted his restraint.

The surface flickered.

A forest clearing.

Ariya standing still.Lira facing her.Their expressions unreadable. Their magic pulsing.

For a heartbeat, Ruvan's chest went hollow.

"She found her," he whispered. "She touched what I warned her to leave alone."

The mirror dimmed as he broke the connection, ice crawling along its frame like angry veins. He pressed his hands to the edge of the war table, trying to steady himself.

This wasn't part of the plan.

He had spent months creating the perfect trap: a slow unraveling of Ariya's hope. Not through blades or brute force, but through misdirection. Through doubt. Through the bonds she trusted.

Now Lira had interfered.

Now everything was at risk.

A servant entered timidly, holding a message scroll. "Highness… shall we ready the retrieval team?"

"No," Ruvan said sharply, lifting his head. His eyes glinted like frozen stars. "Don't touch her."

"Princess Lira?"

"Yes." His tone darkened. "She returns to me. Unharmed. But she will face me herself."

The servant nodded and fled.

Ruvan closed his eyes.

He wasn't sure what he hated more:That his sister had betrayed his trust.That Ariya had spoken to her.Or that a part of him… wanted to know what she said.

He stood in the silence of his private chambers for a long time, watching the snow fall beyond the crystal panes.

"What did she tell you, Ariya?" he murmured.

"And why… do I care?"