The throne room was silent.
Every noble, general, and court whisperer stood frozen as Nara stepped forward with her chin lifted high. Word of her success in Emberhold had traveled faster than fire through dry grass. Not only had she quelled a rebellion—she had done so without a single execution.
But she had also broken the King's command.
"You stand before me," the King's voice echoed through the grand marble hall, "not as a bride or a daughter-in-law, but as a traitor to the crown."
Kael stood beside her, silent, unmoving. His expression was unreadable. His sword was at his side, but he hadn't touched it.
"I followed justice," Nara said, her voice strong though her knees trembled. "The people needed grain, not more blood."
The King's eyes narrowed. "Justice is the crown's to give. Not yours."
The courtiers murmured. Some looked away. Others, like Lord Varric and Lady Sorna, whispered with barely-concealed delight. They wanted to see her fall.
"And yet," Kael finally spoke, stepping forward, "she succeeded where half your council failed. The grain routes are secured. The rebellion quelled. The western lords are loyal once more."
"She disobeyed me," the King snapped.
Kael met his father's gaze without blinking. "So have I. Many times. You didn't call it treason then. Why now?"
Because she's a girl, Nara thought. Because she's a lamb they didn't expect to grow fangs.
The King rose slowly from his bone throne.
"Very well," he said. "You want to play queen? Then wear the crown."
A servant brought forward a thin circlet of silver—stunning, delicate, and soaked in an enchantment that shimmered like blood in sunlight.
The **Blood Crown.**
"Every queen who wears this is tested," the King said darkly. "If your heart is false, it will burn. If your mind is weak, it will shatter you."
Kael turned sharply. "You never tested my mother—"
"She never defied me," the King hissed.
The entire court watched as the servant raised the crown.
Nara didn't move.
She knew this was a trap. A test designed not just to frighten—but to break her.
Still, she stepped forward.
As the crown was lowered onto her head, a chill swept through her skull. Then a flash of heat—like fire licked across her scalp. Her knees wobbled. Her breath caught.
Voices filled her mind—**whispers of dead queens**. Some screaming. Others laughing. And one… one voice familiar.
**"You will either break the curse… or become part of it."**
Nara's vision swirled. Her fingers dug into her own palms to stay conscious. And then—
Silence.
The crown sat, cold and quiet, on her brow.
And she was still standing.
The room exhaled.
The King's lips curled downward in fury.
"The Blood Crown accepts you," the High Enchanter whispered in awe.
Kael looked stunned—for the first time in years.
Nara simply bowed her head.
"I serve the realm," she said. "But I will never serve cruelty."
***
That night, thunder rolled outside the palace walls.
Kael burst into her chamber without knocking.
"You could have died!" he shouted.
"And yet, I didn't," Nara replied, unbothered as she removed her cloak and hung it neatly.
"You don't understand the history of that crown," he growled, pacing. "Three women wore it before you. Two went mad. One turned to ash."
Nara turned slowly to face him. "Then maybe I'm not like the others."
Kael stared at her.
She stepped closer, heart pounding. "You've trained me to be strong. To see. To speak. To decide. Don't be angry now that I'm using what you gave me."
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, unsure whether to yell or pull her into an embrace.
"I'm not angry," he said finally, "I'm afraid."
Her breath caught. "Of what?"
"Of losing you. Of seeing you become like me."
She stepped forward again until they were close—so close she could feel the heat radiating off his skin.
"I'm not you," she whispered. "But I'm not the girl you married either."
His hand hovered near her face but didn't touch.
"You're something else," he said. "Something the court will try to crush."
"Let them try," she whispered.
And then, without warning, Kael kissed her.
It wasn't soft.
It was a clash—like storm meeting sea. A battle of fire and frost. His hand tangled in her hair, hers gripped his chestplate. Their mouths met with all the fury and tenderness of two people who should be enemies—but weren't.
When they pulled apart, they were both breathless.
Kael rested his forehead against hers.
"Whatever comes next," he murmured, "we face it together."
Nara nodded, her voice barely audible. "Together."
***
Elsewhere in the palace, far beneath the dungeons, an ancient eye opened.
The Blood Crown's enchantment had stirred something.
Old magic.
Buried secrets.
In a forgotten chamber where no footsteps had echoed for a century, a silver mirror cracked down the center. And through the crack, a black mist slipped out—whispering Nara's name.
"She lives…" it said. "She remembers…"
And then—silence.
But the darkness had begun to move.