The drink burned. It didn't taste like ash or bile; it felt like frozen needles racing through her veins, turning her blood to ice.
Miranda set her silver goblet down with a slight clatter, her fingers trembling so violently she had to grip the edge of the wooden table to keep her balance. The roaring laughter of the nobles and the booming voice of her father celebrating Elvira became a muffled, distorted echo in her ears. The brilliant golden chandeliers blurred into dizzying streaks of light.
"Going so soon, Mira?" James asked, his voice dripping with condescension as she pushed herself away from the table.
Miranda didn't answer. She couldn't. Concentrating every ounce of her willpower just to keep her legs from buckling, she turned away from the feast. Talia, watching from the shadows of the pillars, smirked as the young princess staggered out of the grand hall.
The walk back to her isolated wing was a waking nightmare. Miranda stumbled through the dark, empty corridors, her hands scraping against the cold stone walls for support. Her chest felt tightly constricted, as if an invisible iron band was squeezing her lungs. By the time she reached her dilapidated bedroom, her vision was completely blacking out. She threw the wooden door shut, collapsing onto the hard stone floor before she could even reach her cot.
Ahhh!
A choked gasp escaped her lips as her body convulsed. The energy-sealing poison Queen El had provided was meant to completely destroy a regular person's spiritual core. But Miranda didn't have a regular core. The toxic substance had slammed directly into the heavily suppressed divine seal placed on her soul by the Sun Goddess Kyrr.
Instead of breaking her, the poison acted like a hammer shattering a glass dam.
Deep within her chest, something ancient and terrifyingly powerful woke up. A searing, white-hot heat erupted from her core, forcefully incinerating the poison in a matter of seconds. Miranda threw her head back, a silent scream tearing from her throat as a blinding, undeniable golden light exploded from her skin.
The dark, dusty bedroom lit up as if a miniature sun had just been born inside the palace walls. The sheer force of the celestial energy caused the iron bars on her window to vibrate violently. The unique grey color of her eyes melted away, replaced by a pair of glowing, ethereal gold orbs that radiated pure divine authority.
At that exact microsecond, far above the clouds, in the shimmering, pristine courts of the Divine Kingdom.
Lord Mika, the high-ranking warrior deity betrothed to Kyrr's exiled daughter, sat upon a throne of solid light. His long, silver-gold hair cascaded over his armored shoulders, and his sharp, golden eyes were fixed on a map of the mortal realms. He had been tracking Amon's growing shadow, frustrated by the silence of the earthly priestesses.
Suddenly, Mika froze.
His hand gripped the armrest of his throne so tightly the solid light cracked. He tilted his head, his nostrils flaring as his spiritual senses spiked. It was incredibly faint—a mere whisper passing through the cosmic veil—but he caught a distinct whiff of an essence he had not felt in fourteen long years.
It was a scent like burning myrrh, solar flares, and pure, unadorned celestial royalty.
"Kyrr's daughter..." Mika whispered, his deep voice sending a tremor through the heavenly hall. His eyes flared with a sudden, possessive intensity. The girl was alive, and her dormant seal had just fractured.
He rose to his feet, his heavy golden cape swirling behind him as he turned toward the heavenly gates. He didn't know where she was hiding on that damp, watery mortal planet, but the scent was clear. The countdown had begun. He would descend to Earth, and he would claim what belonged to him.