The night was unnaturally still.
Not even the wind dared to stir the heavy crimson drapes that hung from the ceiling of the cursed prince's chamber. The moonlight spilled through the narrow window like a blade of silver, cutting across the marble floor and illuminating the figure sitting motionless at the desk.
Ryo Asskar—Leon—stared down at the table where a single object rested.
A book.
The same book that had brought him here.
Its leather cover was scorched at the edges, the golden letters faintly glowing as if the ink still pulsed with life. He had searched the entire room after the throne hall humiliation, hoping to find something—anything—that could explain how he had been drawn into this world. But when he had returned from the King's judgment, the book had been waiting for him on his desk.
Just like before.
It wasn't supposed to exist here. Not in Ryo's world.
And yet… there it was.
Ryo reached for it cautiously, fingers trembling. The instant he touched the cover, the candle flames flickered and the temperature in the room dropped sharply. A whisper brushed against his ear—soft, cold, inhuman.
"You opened the gate…"
He froze. His heart hammered in his chest. "Who's there?"
No reply. Only silence, and the steady crackle of the candle flame.
Ryo swallowed hard and forced the book open. The pages were blank now, the story of the cursed prince completely gone. But the ink stains on the parchment seemed to pulse faintly, like veins beneath skin.
"Why are you here…?" he whispered.
The air shimmered. For a fleeting moment, words appeared in jagged, blood-red script across the first page.
"The curse remembers."
Then they vanished.
Ryo stumbled back, knocking over his chair. "What—what does that mean?"
Before he could react further, the door to his chamber creaked open.
"Master Ryo?" a gentle voice called out. "Are you awake?"
He spun around, startled.
A girl entered, her steps light but cautious. She couldn't have been older than sixteen. Her hair was the color of chestnuts, tied back with a simple ribbon, and her blue eyes carried both warmth and worry. Her uniform marked her as a servant, but her demeanor was too earnest for the cruelty of this palace.
"Caro," Ryo breathed out, remembering the name from Ryo's fragmented memories. She was his personal maid—the only one who had ever dared to stay assigned to him. Others had quit, frightened by the curse or the rumors that surrounded the prince.
Caro noticed the fallen chair and the trembling candlelight. "Did something happen, my lord?"
Ryo hesitated. "No… just a nightmare."
She frowned slightly. "You always say that. But you've been getting worse. The servants talk… they say the curse is spreading again."
Ryo forced a weak smile. "Let them talk. I'm still breathing, aren't I?"
Caro sighed, setting down a tray of tea. "Barely. You should rest more, my lord. Your condition—"
"I'll rest when I find the truth," he interrupted softly.
She looked at him quizzically. "The truth?"
He pointed to the book. "That wasn't here before. It appeared on its own. Do you see it?"
Caro glanced at the desk. Her eyes widened. "My lord… there's nothing there."
Ryo froze. "What?"
She stepped closer, peering directly at the empty spot. "There's no book, Master Ryo. Are you certain you're not—"
But he wasn't imagining it. He could still see the book clearly, resting before him. The edges gleamed faintly with dark light.
He backed away, whispering to himself, "So… it's only visible to me."
Caro's voice softened. "You've had a long day. The council meeting, the insults… perhaps it's exhaustion."
Ryo didn't respond. His mind was spinning.
The curse remembers.
What if the book wasn't just a story—but a key? A bridge between two worlds?
His gaze returned to Caro. She was adjusting the curtains now, trying to make the room feel warmer, less suffocating. Despite the darkness surrounding him, she was the only person who treated him like he still mattered.
"Caro," he said quietly, "how long have you been with me?"
She blinked, surprised by the sudden question. "Three years, my lord."
"And in those three years, have you ever seen the curse… act on its own?"
Her lips tightened. "Once," she admitted. "Two winters ago. You were bedridden for days. The healers said your Mana veins collapsed, but when I came to change your bandages… I saw something moving under your skin. Like black smoke."
Ryo's breath caught. "Did anyone else see it?"
She shook her head. "No. I didn't tell anyone. They already call you cursed—I didn't want them to use it as an excuse to hurt you more."
For the first time, Ryo smiled faintly. "Thank you, Caro."
She blushed, looking away. "I only do what's right, my lord."
But the warmth in her voice faded when she noticed his eyes lingering on the invisible book again.
"Please," she whispered, "don't chase ghosts, Master Ryo. The palace is already full of them."
Her words lingered long after she left.
Hours later, the candles had burned low, their wax pooling like blood on the desk. Ryo sat cross-legged on the floor, the book open in front of him. He stared at it in silence, waiting for something—anything—to happen.
Finally, as the last candle flickered out, the book began to hum.
A faint vibration crawled up his fingertips. Shadows in the corners of the room stretched and writhed, as though drawn toward the tome. The temperature plunged; frost crept along the edges of the desk.
Then came the whisper again, louder this time.
"The prince who defied his fate… the soul who crossed worlds…"
Ryo clenched his jaw. "Who are you?"
The voice was neither male nor female—it was everything and nothing.
"We are what remains of the curse. We are what binds your soul to this body. You called to us when you opened the gate."
"My curse?" Ryo asked, trembling. "You mean… this sickness?"
"Not sickness. Power."
The word echoed through the room like thunder. The shadows flared, coiling around his body. His vision darkened; pain seared through his veins as though molten iron was flowing beneath his skin. He gasped, clutching his chest.
"You were never meant to live, Ryo Asskar. But you, outsider, changed the path. Two souls, one vessel—the curse stirs again."
"Stop—!" Ryo's scream was swallowed by the darkness.
The mark appeared on his chest—a faint black sigil, pulsing like a heartbeat. The shadows recoiled, then sank into his skin. The pain faded as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only the echo of that voice.
And then, silence.
Ryo collapsed to his knees, panting heavily. The room was untouched again, as if nothing had happened. But when he looked at his reflection in the window, his eyes flashed faintly with dark light before returning to normal.
"What… are you turning me into?"
The next morning, sunlight spilled into the chamber. Caro entered quietly, balancing a tray of breakfast. "Good morning, Master Ryo."
He looked up, still pale but awake. "Morning…"
She frowned immediately. "You didn't sleep, did you?"
He shook his head. "Couldn't. The curse acted up again."
She set the tray down, worry shadowing her eyes. "Should I call the court healer?"
"No," he said quickly. "No one must know."
Her expression softened, but she didn't press further. She began tidying the room, humming softly to fill the silence. But as she reached for the window, she froze.
"My lord… what is that on your wall?"
Ryo turned sharply. Etched into the marble was a new mark—identical to the sigil that had appeared on his chest the night before. The lines were jagged, glowing faintly with black and crimson light.
"I… I didn't do that," he whispered.
Caro backed away. "Should I get the guards?"
"No!" Ryo stood quickly, grabbing her wrist. "Don't. If the King's men see this, they'll call it dark magic. They'll execute us both."
She swallowed, fear flickering across her face. "Then what do we do?"
He stared at the mark, feeling the same pulse of energy radiate from it. It wasn't just a curse—it was alive, responding to him.
"We wait," he said softly. "And we watch."
But deep inside, he knew waiting wasn't enough. Whatever power was buried in Ryo's blood—or his own soul—was waking up.
And it wasn't going to stay quiet for long.
That night, Ryo couldn't sleep again. The whispers returned, faint but persistent, threading through his dreams.
"Find the mirror… beneath the palace… the truth sleeps there…"
He jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat.
"The mirror…" he muttered. "Beneath the palace?"
The words repeated in his head, over and over, until he couldn't ignore them anymore. He dressed quickly, throwing on a cloak, and slipped out of his room. The corridors were silent, guarded only by flickering torches. He moved like a shadow, guided by some unseen instinct.
The castle's undercroft was forbidden to servants and nobles alike—a labyrinth of old ruins beneath the palace foundation. Ryo remembered it vaguely from the book: a place built over ancient catacombs, sealed long before his birth.
The deeper he went, the colder it became. Cobwebs hung thick, and strange carvings covered the walls—symbols matching the mark on his chest.
And then he found it.
A vast chamber, half-collapsed, lit by an otherworldly blue flame. In the center stood a broken mirror taller than a man, its surface cracked and rippling like water. The air around it buzzed with power.
Ryo stepped closer, his reflection splitting into a thousand fragments. For a moment, he saw himself as Leon again—the boy from the other world—before the image twisted, showing something else.
A figure cloaked in darkness, its eyes glowing red.
"You shouldn't have come here," it whispered from within the mirror.
Ryo's breath hitched. "Who are you?"
"I am what you were meant to become. I am the curse that sleeps beneath your skin."
The reflection moved independently now, lips curling into a sinister smile.
"But since you've awakened me… the world will remember the name Ryo Asskar again."
The mirror pulsed, cracks glowing brighter. The air erupted into chaos—howling wind, swirling shadows, and the sharp scent of blood.
Ryo raised his arms to shield himself, shouting, "No! I won't be your puppet!"
But the dark figure only laughed.
"You already are."
The mirror exploded in a burst of black energy.
Ryo was thrown backward, his body slamming into the wall. Pain seared through him, and for an instant, everything went white.
When the dust settled, the chamber was silent again. The mirror was gone—reduced to shards that still glowed faintly on the floor.
Ryo staggered to his feet, trembling. His heartbeat was erratic, his chest burning with that same dark energy. The sigil on his skin pulsed brighter than ever.
From somewhere above, he heard distant voices—guards shouting, footsteps rushing toward the lower halls.
"Damn it…" he whispered. "I have to move."
He turned and ran, his shadow trailing unnaturally behind him—longer, darker, and whispering faintly with every step.
By the time he returned to his room, dawn was breaking. Caro was waiting by the door, eyes red from worry.
"Master Ryo! Where were you? The guards said they heard—"
"I found something," he interrupted, voice ragged. "Something buried beneath the palace."
She stared at him in horror. "You shouldn't go down there! That place… even the King forbids it!"
"I know," he said quietly. "But whatever this curse is… it started there."
As he spoke, the mark on his chest flared again—just for an instant—but Caro saw it this time. Her breath caught, and she whispered, terrified, "My lord… your eyes…"
He looked up. In her reflection, his pupils burned faintly crimson.
Ryo—Leon—took a step back, horrified at his own reflection. "No… not again…"
The room shuddered, the candles snuffed out one by one, and from the corner of the invisible book came a low, rumbling whisper.
"The awakening has begun."
And as the first light of morning fell upon the cursed prince's window, Ryo Asskar realized the truth—
the story had changed.
And now, the curse was alive.