Tessy_vibez

He was a king born from war. She was a girl fate never meant to survive.
Yet somehow, they were bound.

Freya was supposed to be a sacrifice. Instead, she ended up in the very heart of the enemy's castle — held not by chains, but by the command of a cold, calculating king who claims she has no place in his world. Still, he won’t let her leave.

Sebastian, the newly crowned king with eyes like stormy skies and a temper sharper than any blade, is feared across the kingdom. But Freya is... different. Quiet, clever, and stubborn. She doesn’t bow. She questions. And despite his best efforts to ignore her — he can’t.

But nothing in this kingdom is what it seems.
Not the silence.
Not the strange pull between them.
Not even the curse whispered through bloodlines and shadows.

As tensions rise and buried truths claw their way to the surface, Freya begins to wonder… what if leaving isn't an option anymore?
And Sebastian starts to ask himself… what if she’s the key to everything?

Some bonds are chosen. Others are cursed.
Welcome to the curse that binds them.

The Curse That Binds Us

Bells tolled across the kingdom—not in mourning, but as a formality. The people lit no candles, sang no songs. The late king had ruled with an iron fist. And an iron heart.

Preparations began almost immediately. The funeral was to be grand—not out of love, but tradition.

As Sebastian's most trusted ally and royal advisor, he began overseeing everything—from the black banners to the ceremonial guard. His calm, no-nonsense demeanor steadied the castle during the chaos.

In the east wing, Freya awoke to soft knocking.

Kael entered with the air of someone used to moving through important places.

"Hope you slept well," he said lightly, though the look in his eyes was more observant than kind. "You'll be staying here until further notice."

Freya sat up slowly. "I wasn't sure if I was a guest or a prisoner."

His lips curved in a slight smile. "Both, maybe. But don't worry. No chains. Not yet."

He looked around the room. "It's cold in here. You didn't light the second hearth?"

Kael turned to the door and called to a pair of maids. "Bring proper clothes, something light for the day, warm for the night. And food. She'll need strength."

When the maids hurried off, Kael studied her once more. "There's a funeral coming. And a coronation. The whole kingdom's turning its eyes here."

He paused, then added, "And a wedding. Prince Elara's intended is already on his way with his people. He's... fun. Loud. Not like Seb."

Freya tilted her head. "You're close with the prince?"

Kael smirked. "I'm close with both. But yes. We grew up stabbing things together."

He moved to leave, then glanced back. "You're safe, Freya. Just… stay out of sight for now."

Banners changed from red to black. Gardens were trimmed for the coming ceremony. The air smelled of ink, parchment, and ash.

Elara, meanwhile, wasn't grieving. She was reviewing her wedding details with a calm detachment. She'd always known love wasn't required for royal unions.

But her betrothed? He was already halfway here, laughing his way through villages, charming nobles and commoners alike with his bride-to-be's name on his lips.

A kingdom was preparing for a funeral and a wedding.

And deep in the castle, a girl with ocean eyes tried to understand why her heart wouldn't calm.

Chapter 16: Between Crowns and Coffins