SECRET OF THE ASHES AND CROWN

PROLOGUE:

There are some stories you only whisper after dark.

Stories of witches who still roam the woods.

Of kings who made deals with gods.

Of love so strong, it turned curses into kingdoms.

This is not one of those stories.

This is a story they tried to burn.

"Sit still, child," the nursemaid hissed, tightening the laces on Elira's ceremonial corset. "You're the Light of Dawn. The people must see you shine."

Elira winced as another tug stole her breath. She stared out the window, her silver veil fluttering like a ghost in the wind. Below, the city bloomed in ribbons and lanterns. Fire dancers painted sparks on cobblestone. Merchants called out. Children laughed. The world was celebrating a kingdom she didn't feel part of.

"I want to go out," she whispered.

The maid dropped her comb. "Out? To the streets? Unchaperoned? You'll be seen!"

Elira smiled, dangerous and wistful. "That's the point."

She would only be betrothed once. Only celebrated once before she was shackled to a stranger in silk and duty. So, she took one night-just one-to be no one.

Kael had only come for scrap metal.

The festival was noise, fire, and too many people. He preferred the forge-quiet, hot, predictable.

But when he looked up, when he saw her standing beneath a lantern tree in a simple cloak with eyes like frost and sorrow-everything tilted.

"Do you believe in fate?" she asked, not even knowing his name.

Kael didn't believe in fate.

Until he met her.

That night, a royal cloak brushed a poor boy's shoulder. And the world kept turning-just slightly off balance.

They didn't know it yet, but a kingdom had just cracked.

And from its ashes... something else would rise.

"There are some nights that change everything. Most of them don't ask permission."

KAEL

The forge was still glowing when the festival drums began.

Kael wiped the soot from his hands, leaving streaks like war paint across his jaw. His shirt clung to his back, wet from heat and hammering. He didn't belong at the Festival of Lights. He belonged with iron and fire things that didn't lie.

But tonight, the city glittered like a jewel no one in his village could afford. Paper lanterns floated like stars breaking free from the sky. Music pulsed through the valley, laughter trailing behind silk-draped nobles and wine-drunk merchants.

He should've turned back. He didn't.

"Oi! You coming or what?" Jorin, his friend from the forge, grinned from the alleyway, already holding two half-stolen meat pies and a jug of sour wine. "It's not every day the royals let the scum in."

Kael rolled his eyes. "They didn't let us in. They just forgot we exist."

Still, he followed.

Not because of the festival.

Because of the dream that had clung to him the past two nights like smoke-a silver-eyed girl standing beneath a rain of fireflies, whispering his name.

ELIRA

She peeled the veil off the moment she stepped out of the palace grounds.

No guards. No ladies-in-waiting. No title. Just a hood, a heartbeat, and her breath clouding in the cool dusk air. Elira had bribed the stable hand with a ruby pin and escaped through the old aqueduct tunnel.

For the first time in seventeen years, she was alone.

And terrified.

And alive.

The city was nothing like she'd imagined. It smelled of honeyed nuts, sweat, and burnt sugar. There were colors that weren't allowed in the palace-blinding reds, rebellious purples, careless golds. Musicians played offbeat. Lovers kissed in doorways. Thieves danced with coin purses.

No one bowed. No one noticed her.

She wandered, unsure of where to go, until a glowing tree caught her eye.

Not a real one-just a sculpture wound with hundreds of paper lanterns, each with a wish tied in string.

Write what your heart wants most, said a sign in fading ink.

Let the wind decide your fate.

Elira reached into her cloak and pulled out a ribbon torn from her ceremonial sleeve. With trembling fingers, she wrote:

Let me choose my own life-even if it breaks me.

She tied it to a low-hanging branch.

Then turned-and collided into someone.

KAEL

She smelled like roses dipped in rain.

Kael staggered back, blinking, because the girl wasn't from here. She didn't feel like here. Her cloak was too fine, her eyes too sharp, her posture all wrong-graceful in a way no street-trained girl ever moved.

"Are you-" he began.

"Just a traveler," she cut in quickly. "You?"

He almost laughed. "A nobody."

"Good," she said.

Then she smiled.

And Kael forgot every warning his mother ever told him about strange women in cloaks.

They talked.

About stupid things. The taste of fire-roasted corn. Why the sky sometimes looked like spilled ink. How awful nobles were. How loud the music was. How strange it was that this moment-this-felt like it had been waiting to happen.

ELIRA

He didn't know who she was.

And she liked that.

Because for once, she could laugh without someone pretending it was funny. She could argue without someone apologizing. She could ask questions and not worry about being too clever or too curious or too improper.

When he asked her name, she hesitated.

"El," she said. "Just El."

His eyes lit up. "Kael."

They shook hands like old enemies turned allies.

And neither of them let go.

KAEL

When the royal procession began, the crowd surged toward the palace square.

Trumpets blared. Fireworks painted the sky. Nobles in jeweled cloaks rode white horses. At the center: a golden chariot carrying the Crown Princess herself, masked and robed.

Kael turned to make a joke-

But El was gone.

Just gone.

Not even a whisper left behind.

ELIRA

She ducked into an alley as the palace guards moved past, breath ragged. Her heart was still racing-not from the escape, but from him.

Kael.

The boy who didn't bow.

The boy who didn't ask her to be anything but herself.

She pressed a hand to her chest.

What had she just done?

That night, the princess went back to the palace with a name on her lips that could destroy her future.

And Kael went home with a feeling he couldn't explain and a question he couldn't shake:

Who exactly was El?

In the shadows, someone else had seen them together.

Someone who recognized her face even with the hood.

And secrets like that don't stay buried for long.