Chapter 2 The prince's eyes

The prince had woken that day with a storm in his heart.

Not because of the duties waiting for him.

Not because of the crown weighing heavily on his brow.

But because something in the morning felt... wrong.

It was a feeling he could not explain. A quiet unrest that followed him even as servants bowed and greeted him. Even as the palace moved like a well-oiled machine around him. Something unseen tugged at him, as though fate itself had brushed past his shoulder and left a chill behind.

Steam from his bath rose like fog over the polished stone floor as he dressed. Warm water still clung to his skin as he reached for his clothes. His hands moved almost on their own, tying the silk sash around his waist, fastening the buttons of his shirt. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his dark hair damp, his sharp features serious.

Prince Aiden of Valenmere.

That was who the world saw.

But beneath the title, beneath the gold and power, was a man weighed down by duty and loneliness. A man who rarely allowed himself to feel.

Yet today, something stirred.

Then came the knock.

Once.

Twice.

No answer.

He froze.

Visitors always waited for permission. Always.

The door creaked open slowly.

And there she was.

Elenma.

She stood frozen at the threshold, her eyes wide with shock, as if she had just stepped into a dream she did not belong in. Her chest rose and fell quickly. Her fingers clutched the edge of the basket she carried, knuckles pale.

She should not have been there.

And yet... the moment his eyes landed on her, the room felt brighter.

Even in her simple servant's dress, she seemed to glow softly, like sunlight slipping through clouds. Her dark hair framed her face, a few loose strands falling near her cheeks. Her skin looked warm, alive. Her eyes-those eyes-were deep, expressive, filled with fear and innocence.

The prince's breath caught.

He took a step back without realizing it.

"What... what do you think you're doing?" His voice came out sharp, harsh, anger rushing in to cover the shock he felt.

"I-I'm sorry, my lord," she stammered quickly, lowering her gaze. "I was told to clean... the room... I did not mean to intrude."

Her voice was soft. Trembling. Honest.

Do you know where you are? his mind shouted. Do you know who I am?

"Do you think this is a place you walk into freely?" he snapped, trying to regain control. His eyes scanned her quickly, from her bowed head to her trembling hands. "Do you know who resides here? Who you disturb?"

Elenma bowed deeply, her braid slipping over her shoulder.

"No, my lord. Please forgive me."

Her voice cracked.

She turned to leave.

"Wait."

The single word fell heavy between them.

Elenma froze.

Slowly, carefully, she lifted her head.

Their eyes met.

And the world stopped.

For the prince, something deep inside him stirred. His gift awakened instinctively, as it always did. When he looked into someone's eyes, he could sense their intentions. Lies, fear, hunger, ambition-all revealed themselves like shadows in light.

But with Elenma, there was nothing hidden.

No deceit.

No malice.

No ambition.

Only fear... respect... and something pure.

It unsettled him.

Elenma felt it too.

Her own power-one she barely understood-stirred softly beneath her skin. When she looked into someone's eyes, she could sense whether they meant her harm or safety. And in the prince, she saw no cruelty. No evil.

She saw loneliness.

She saw pressure.

She saw a man trapped beneath a crown he never asked for.

Their gazes locked.

Silent.

Unmoving.

Caught between breath and heartbeat.

Then the prince looked away first.

"Go," he said quietly, almost roughly. "Leave. Now."

Elenma bowed deeply, her heart pounding, and fled the room.

The door closed behind her with a soft click.

The prince remained where he stood.

Something had shifted.

Something he could not name.

"Summon Ramela," he said at last, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.

Moments later, Ramela entered.

She moved like silk. Graceful. Controlled. Beautiful in a sharp, deliberate way. Her dark hair was neatly styled, her expression calm, her posture flawless.

"My prince," she said softly, lowering her head. "You called for me?"

"Yes," he replied, turning to face her. "Explain. A kitchen maid entered my chamber unannounced. Why?"

Ramela's heart skipped-but her face did not change.

"My prince," she said smoothly, "I take full responsibility. The maid assigned to your chambers fell ill this morning. I saw the girl nearby and asked her to assist. Just for today."

She tilted her head slightly, eyes shining with carefully practiced concern.

"And?" the prince pressed, his gaze searching her face.

"I did not expect her to enter while you were present," Ramela continued gently. "It was an unfortunate misunderstanding. I will ensure it never happens again."

The prince watched her closely.

His power stirred.

But it showed him nothing.

No lies.

No danger.

No darkness.

Ramela's gift hid her true intentions perfectly.

"I see," he said finally. "Be careful. Order must be maintained."

"Yes, my prince," Ramela said, bowing. "It will not happen again."

She turned to leave, her steps calm.

But inside, her thoughts burned.

Why did he not punish her?

That girl should have been humiliated. Sent away. Broken.

Yet the prince had looked at Elenma... differently.

Ramela remembered the prophecy.

A girl from nothing.

A girl unseen.

A girl who would bind blood and heart.

Her fingers curled into her palms.

That girl is dangerous, she thought. And if she grows close to the prince... everything will collapse.

She smiled as she walked away.

I will not allow it.

Down in the servants' quarters, Elenma scrubbed her hands again and again. Water splashed over her skin, but her heart still raced.

She could still feel his gaze.

Still hear his voice.

Still sense the strange pull between them.

Something had changed.

Something dangerous.

Something beautiful.

And high above, the prince stood alone in his chamber, staring at the closed door.

She is not ordinary, he thought.

She belongs to something greater than she knows.

Elsewhere, Ramela's eyes glimmered with fear and fury.

Fate had stirred.

The prophecy had awakened.

And none of them could stop what had begun.