Ashes of the crown

POV: Prince Ruvan ❄️👑🌘

The frost in the northern tower never melted. Not even in summer.

Ruvan stood before a massive frost-glass window, watching the stars burn cold above his kingdom. The mark on his chest throbbed again — faintly, rhythmically — ever since Ariya had awakened the Sentinel.

She was growing stronger.

Faster than he expected.

Too fast.

"You're brooding again," came a voice behind him — light, amused, sharp as ice.

He didn't turn. "You're late."

Princess Lira stepped into the chamber, her long silver coat dusted with snow, her hair braided back in that annoying royal way she only wore when she was about to provoke him.

"Not my fault your spies take forever to report," she said, brushing snow from her sleeves. "Or that your plans are getting reckless."

"They're not reckless. They're necessary."

"You sent Corven."

"He's effective."

"He's charming," she corrected. "There's a difference."

Ruvan turned then, eyes hard.

"She's not ready. I need her to break before she becomes unstoppable."

"So you plan to poison her trust, isolate her, and then… what? Capture her? Kill her?"

His jaw clenched.

Lira's gaze softened.

"You don't even know what you want from her anymore, do you?"

He looked away.

Silence settled between them — the kind only siblings could share without a word.

Finally, he said, "She's more than a Flamebearer."

"So are you," Lira whispered. "But you don't see it."

He looked sharply at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She stepped closer. "It means the gods didn't make us to be rulers, Ruvan. They made us to be mirrors. One for the other. You feel her, don't you?"

The mark on his chest pulsed again, silver and blue fire rippling faintly beneath his skin.

He didn't answer.

"You dream of her."

"Lira—"

"You feel her pain like it's yours."

He turned away again. "That doesn't matter. I'll still use it."

"Will you?"

Her voice was gentler now. "Because if you do… and she survives what you put her through… she won't forgive you."

He closed his eyes.

"I don't need her forgiveness."

"You want it."

The wind howled beyond the tower.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Then Lira asked, "What will you do when the crown calls her? When the fire rises for her alone?"

He opened his eyes again, colder now.

"Then I'll do what I was raised to do."

"Even if it means losing her?"

He didn't answer.

Because deep down, he wasn't sure he could.

Lira sighed, walking toward the door.

"You're playing with fate, Ruvan."

"No," he said softly. "I'm twisting it."

She paused at the threshold. "Then I hope you're ready when it twists back."

With a flick of her cloak, she disappeared into the shadows.

Leaving Ruvan alone — again.

With a mark that no longer obeyed him.

And a heart that, despite everything… had started to burn.