The Prince of Ashes

Kael hadn't spoken for hours.

After the truth unraveled in front of him, he sat by the fire, staring into the flames like they might answer the questions I couldn't.

I watched him silently. Riven had disappeared into the woods to scout for spies—he said the village was no longer safe.

I agreed.

Finally, Kael looked at me.

"When you said my name… Kael Thalor... it felt like a curse and a promise at the same time."

"It's both," I said quietly. "It's the reason they want us dead. And the reason we have to live."

He gave a bitter laugh. "Do you know what it's like to build your entire life on a lie? And then one day, a stranger rides into your village and tells you your blood is royal?"

I nodded. "I do. I lived it too."

He ran his hands through his hair, then asked, "Why now? Why did the truth find me now?"

"Because the ones who destroyed us are getting nervous. Rumors are leaking. And they know you exist. You're not safe here anymore."

Kael stood, pacing. His jaw was tight, eyes burning.

"All these years… I thought I was no one. But I'm the heir of a house they tried to erase."

He looked up at me. "What do I do with that?"

I stepped toward him. "You don't have to decide now. But you have to survive. If they kill you, the truth dies with you."

He met my eyes. "You're not afraid of them, are you?"

"I used to be," I said. "But not anymore. Not since I remembered who I was."

He nodded slowly.

Then he did something that shook me—he reached out and gripped my hand. And when he spoke, there was steel in his voice.

"Then I'll remember too. Not just the name. But the pain. The fire. The betrayal."

A shadow passed over his face, one I'd seen before—in my own reflection.

He wasn't just Kael anymore.

He was the Prince of Ashes.

And the kingdom had no idea what was coming for it.

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