CHAPTER 14

The Crown and the Curse A Throne of Fire and Blood

Lyra stood before the Celestial Throne, the very seat where her ancestors had ruled. The ancient silver and gold seat pulsed with power, its intricate engravings shifting under the moon's light as if whispering forgotten secrets.

She had never imagined this moment—ascending to the throne while grief still clawed at her chest. Malakar should have been standing beside her. Instead, he was gone, his blood still staining her hands.

The celestial mark on her arm glowed fiercely, reacting to the throne's presence. The moment she stepped closer, a sudden wave of memories not her own flooded her mind.

Visions of past rulers, battles fought long before her birth, the first Celestial Queen sacrificing everything to bind the darkness beneath Eldoris.

And then—a terrible revelation.

She saw herself.

Not ruling. Not victorious.

But falling.

A kingdom in ruins.

The throne shattered.

Her lifeless body lying at its base, her golden mark darkened to black.

Eryx's Warning

The vision snapped away as Eryx stepped into the chamber, his dark cloak swirling around him. His silver eyes studied her carefully.

"You saw it, didn't you?" he murmured.

Lyra swallowed, gripping the throne's armrest to steady herself. "The vision… the prophecy."

Eryx nodded. "The throne is not just a seat of power. It is a test."

Lyra turned to him, her voice a whisper. "And I am destined to fail?"

Eryx hesitated, as if weighing his words. "Not necessarily. But the throne comes with a cost. The first Celestial Queen bound the Shadow born beneath Eldoris—but the binding was incomplete. Every ruler who has ever taken this throne has fought to keep the darkness sealed."

Lyra's stomach twisted. "You're saying I will have to do the same?"

"Yes," Eryx confirmed. "The moment you take your place as queen; the final piece of the prophecy will begin."

Alden entered the chamber, his expression grim. "And what exactly does that mean?"

Eryx's gaze darkened. "It means that the war isn't over."

A Silent Betrayal

As the coronation preparations began, the kingdom bustled with unease. The nobles whispered behind closed doors, the people eyed the palace with both hope and fear.

Kael had been absent since the battle, disappearing into the shadows. Alden remained at Lyra's side, but she felt the distance growing between them.

And then there was Selene.

She had been too quiet. Too calculating.

That night, as Lyra wandered the palace halls, she overheard hushed voices in the council chamber. Pressing herself against the cold stone wall, she listened.

"This throne was never meant for her," a voice sneered. "The kingdom needs stability, not a girl blinded by grief."

Lyra's blood ran cold.

Another voice, familiar but bitter, responded.

Selene.

"She has power, yes. But power without control is dangerous."

A third voice, deeper, deliberate. "Then we must act before she seals her fate."

Lyra's breath hitched.

Her own council was plotting against her.

And worse—Selene was leading them.

The Coronation Deception

The day of the coronation arrived, and the palace glowed with celestial light. Nobles, warriors, and scholars filled the grand hall, all awaiting the moment when Lyra would take her place as Queen of Eldoris.

She stepped forward, her ceremonial robes heavy with golden embroidery. The celestial mark on her arm burned as she approached the throne.

But something felt wrong.

The air was thick with tension, the murmurs of the council members too controlled, too expectant.

Lyra's fingers tightened at her sides.

Selene stood among them; her expression unreadable.

A flicker of movement caught Lyra's eye. A dagger, glinting in the light. A shadowed figure moving towards her from the side.

Assassins.

The trap had been set.

The First Strike

A figure lunged from the shadows. A blade flashed.

Lyra twisted, barely dodging the assassin's strike. The dagger sliced the edge of her cloak instead, and she retaliated, channeling raw celestial energy through her palm.

The blast sent the assassin crashing into the wall.

Panting, Lyra stood over the unconscious form. A crest gleamed on the attacker's cloak—a sigil of the High Council.

This was no common mercenary.

This was an order from within her own palace.

Gasps filled the room. Selene stepped forward, feigning shock. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

Lyra's eyes locked onto hers. "You tell me."

A ripple of magic energy pulsed through the hall, shaking the ground beneath them.

The celestial throne rejected the betrayal.

The sigils on the walls flared with light as something ancient awoke.

The prophecy had begun.

Lyra turned to the gathered court, her voice steady and unyielding.

"Those who stand against me will fall. This kingdom will not be ruled by shadows."

The council members stiffened, some backing away. Others clutched their weapons.

Selene's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Then let's see if you truly deserve the throne."

The coup had already begun